#I'm down bad for this stupid gremlin
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
"Please. Talk to the Keepers. If not for me, then for Anne."
Anyone wanna tell me why this scene is so frickin tender??? Love I'd die for you and Anne no questions asked.
#I'm down bad for this stupid gremlin#who's been mad at me the whole day for no reason#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy mc#siyana devonshire#sebastian sallow#hphl
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
Knuckles is both 'I'd die for you' but also 'I'd sell you to Satan for a corn chip' with Sonic and I love him for that XD
#I'm Just Warming Up {OOC}#Mun Menu {Post}#Knux is very much 'You are one of my best friends but also fuck you'#He loves him a lot don't worry but he also likes seeing this man fall down stairs and laugh about it#It's the duality man XD#There is now in between either; he cares for him but also 'I wanna see this clown hit a wall' XD#He'll both be like 'Do not do the thing' but also 'do the thing cause it be real funny'#His that lil' angel and devil on the shoulder sometimes and it changes which he is with Sonic daily XD#They are bad influences on each other and you cannot tell me otherwise UwU#They encourage the gremlin behavior in one another;they bring out the goblin mode in each other#Will fight together but also be real funny to do the stupid thing
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Accidental Targ
Scene III: i told you to hold my hand! | Masterlist
Daemon Targaryen x Modern!Reader
Summary: After coming to terms with the fact you were in King's Landing some two thousand years before your birth, you get reunited with your friend and try to manifest your way back to the present. For the meantime, Harwin Strong is your bodyguard.
Word Count: 4k+
Warnings: fem!reader, time travel au, descriptions of reader's hair, incestuous gremlin!daemon, very sus and innappropriate boss-employee dynamics, low key sugar daddy!otto hightower vibes, crackfic, typos, etc.
A/N: GUYS I DID IT. I FINISHED IT 😫 Also, its come to my attention that perhaps the way i planned out everything geographically is ??? bad but no its not just roll with it AND!! remember yall voted for him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i have a feeling you didnt read the prompt fully but whatever HAHAHAA i honestly have no idea where i meant to take this fic, so ???? enjoy?? HAHHAAH
Shoot me if I ever say it again, but for now: gods bless capitalism, specifically for it desecrating a national landmark.
Where once I was one of the people who protested against the building of the High Garden Centre, girl, was I thankful that the old ruins of the fucking Red Keep laid there as a little ol' artsy featurette.
"What's that sound?" Daemon asks as we stand from our spot.
I turn to my side, never before so relieved to hear and see, no more than two blocks away, a rave spilling out of a club, the very one Libby and I were at before we got into this shit show. "That, my prince, is called EDM."
I hurriedly run to Libby's side to pick her up, but Daemon does that himself. He get down and pulls the blue haired woman on his back, and I help him. At the same time, I feel a buzz from my satchel.
My phone!
Daemon watches me as I frantically claw for my device. The amount of texts and call notifications that pop up on my screen is overwhelming. I decide to just let it go off and grab Daemon's arm, "come on."
We walk down from the ruins, shifting through the shrubs and foliage around it. I catch the sight a mall cop and feel agitated when he looks over. He couldn't care less though, the site was open to the public after all, and with a literal club being right there, we were the least of his worries.
We pass the rusty chain fence surrounding it, and draw near Harrenhal (the club). Once we're there, a bunch of men hoot and holler at me. I ignore them as they say something about my 'Targaryen' hair and it dawns on me they were probably calling me princess and lady because I was still in a fucking Targaryen era dress.
Still, I ignore the stupid fucks as they ask to see my pretty skirt, opting to walk faster instead. I was horrified by how loud and violent Daemon's scream was.
He shouted so gutturally that I couldn't understand a lick of The High Valyrian flaming out of his mouth. The vein on his neck popped out and I literally had to hold him back from charging and dropping Libby.
"Daemon, please!" I whimper, heart racing, "Libby's still on you-"
"Grab her and I'll fucking ram steel down- COME OVER HERE AND SAY THAT AGAIN. SAY THAT-"
Steel? I look to his belt. Fucking seven hells, he brought Dark Sister?
I look back at him with wide eyes, feeling nauseous now that I've caught how maddened he looked.
In a panic, I gently pat his face while pulling his arm back, "Daemon, please."
He doesn't look at me.
My voice gets softer and my eyes water, "Daemon, I beg you."
He huffs and clenches his jaw, still not sparing me a glance.
"We don't have time for them," I whisper and keep my hand on his cheek, "I'm just going to connect to the club's wifi from here, then I'll can call us an Ubor."
Daemon does not tear his gaze from the men, who eventually waddle away to whatever sewer they came from, still hollering bullshit as they did.
"Kesan daor nārhēdegon naejot nyetodha aōha irosh," Daemon mutters. I will not forget to slit your throats.
The relief that washed over me was unparalleled when I booked an Ubor set to arrive in 3 minutes. I whimper and rub my eyes, "okay, not long now."
Daemon finally looks at me, still visibly pissed, and adjusts Libby on his back.
I wipe my face, "we're just going to get in the c-" Fuck... I should probably prepare him for the car.
"Okay," I raise my hands, "we're going to get in a metal..." I motion to the space, "... there's going to be a- a- carriage? But with no horse... but and when I get in, you just get in with me, okay?"
Daemon's expression is now one of confusion.
I sigh and place a hand on his shoulder, "it's going to be okay."
His lips curl, "... OK."
I screw my eyes shut and shake my head rapidly, "I mean alright. Alright! ALRIGHT!"
Daemon takes in my visible frustration and nods slowly, "OK."
To be honest, Daemon was a pretty good Ubor passenger, save for the fact his sword nearly cut me, Libby, him and the fucking car seats when he tried to sit without removing his scabbard first. We were lucky the driver seemed to be used to... ren fair people.
He also seemed to be used to driving people to the ER. I was too relieved to think realize how fucked up that kinda is in the moment. Needless to say, I gave him 5 stars and an extra tip.
With Dark Sister in my grip and Libby in Daemon's arms, we finally made it to Lannister Medical Center.
The moment we get there, I run inside the ER and break down at the first nurse I see. I infodump everything, how Libby got attacked, how Harwin lost her, how some maesters tried to help us, how she lost a lot of blood, how I'm afraid she's going to die, how Daemon ended up carrying her, and I just keep going up until I saw Libby's blue hair scattered on a stretcher and the nurse told me to sit down.
I didn't have much fight in me left to argue, so I sit myself down on the bench. But then I see the nurse speaking to Daemon, who, seemed to be explaining what had happened, and I panic all over again.
Before I could stand though, another nurse was there to accommodate me. He did a checkup on me, asked me how I was feeling, and asked if I needed anything to calm down.
I told him I was fine and proceeded to answer his other questions. Daemon eventually came to my side and eyed him.
The nurse gives me a nod and offers a smile, "you seem to be physically well. Just let yourself relax. The doctors have your friend; they'll do their best to help her."
"Thank you."
The nurse nods again. He gives me and Daemon one last look before walking off.
I grab Daemon's hand once it's just the two of us. I look up and shudder, "we did it."
He looks down at me, violet eyes solemn. He brings a hand to my cheek and swipes at my cheek, "ȳdra daor limagon."
"I don't know what that means," I mumble.
"I said don't cry, pretty girl," he kneels in front of me, "worrying will not save your friend."
I stare at him, feeling my heart race and belly roll because of the look he had. He brushes my silver hair back behind my shoulders, only intensifying the flurry in my stomach. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, suddenly, my stomach growls. Oh.
Daemon turns his eyes to my belly as I clutch it.
"You want something to eat... prince?"
Daemon reaches a hand out, "lead the way."
I take his hand, grab Dark Sister, and hand it to him. He fastens his scabbard as we exit the ER and I go through my satchel, fishing for my wallet. Just before I get it, I remember that I blew most of my money on the Ubor.
"Fuck," I curse and turn to Daemon, "I don't have enough money."
Daemon rests his hand on his sword and simply stairs.
"I don't have coin," I clarify. I look around the road and figure our chances of riding a bus at this hour was nonexistent. I give him a look, "do you mind walking home with me?"
Daemon raises a brow, "as opposed to swimming home with you?"
I raise my brows and sigh, "Daemon-"
"Lead the way," he nods and points, "I am not one to tire easily."
I nod and slice through air to drive a point, "okay. No matter what happens," I reach out to him, "you have to hold my hand, okay?"
He looks at my hand then my face, his violet eyes sparkle with amusement. He chuckles but he links his fingers between mine (overkill if you ask me). I'm glad goosebumps don't form.
Daemon smiles softly, "you take me for a child, riña?"
"This child knows how to cross the street," I squeeze his hand harder than necessary and begin to walk off, "I'm not sure you do, kekepa." Grandfather.
Daemon laughs, full-on throwing his head back, "how hard is it to cross? You jus-"
His words go dry when an empty school bus passes us. He was so stunned by the yellow contraption, I had to tug his arm to continue walking.
Just then, a Megatron looking-ass truck drives down the street. I hiss and curse the 14 wheeler for emitting such horrible smoke, eyeing it as it drives away.
Meanwhile, I catch the prince's stunned reaction and almost feel bad for finding it funny. Almost.
We arrive at my apartment about 20 minutes later.
I press the elevator button and turn to Daemon, "don't put your arm between the door, okay?"
Daemon gives me a look.
The elevator opens and we step inside. Daemon gives me a look, "we have lifts you know."
I pull my head back, "you do?"
"At the wall," Daemon retorts as the elevator door closes.
"The wall?" I think for a moment, "ahh. You're right."
A beat.
I knit my brows, "wait, you've been to the wall?"
"Of course I've been to the wall."
The moment we get to my place, relief washes over me. I take my shoes off and scoop my hair in front, "fucking rip this dress off me."
Without a single thought between his brows, Daemon's reaches out to undo the ties at the back of my dress.
Just before he does this, I hear him walk in with his boots and nearly have a heart attack when he passes my threshold.
"OH, ABSOLUTELY NOT!" I turn and shove him back, "take your crusty boots off now!"
Daemon looks at me in bewilderment but walks back and doesn't protest as he removes his shoes. He places his shoes on the rack along with mine.
Not wasting time, he catches my arm and yanks me towards him. He spins me around and immediately undoes the back of my dress. I hastily begin to tug my dress down once I can.
He chuckles, "eager girl."
I rather literally jump out of my dress when I can. Pent-up rage overcomes me. I turn around and start kicking the dress away, releasing all my frustration and anger out on the thing. I curse 8th century Westeros and the Red Keep in particular and assault the object until I'm out of breath.
I proceed to jump onto my sofa and allow exhaustion to finally take over my being.
A second later, I catch Daemon's expression and realize, he probably thought he was going to get lucky when I asked him to basically strip me naked.
"Ahh," I get back on my feet, "sorry about," I point to the dress, "that."
Daemon says nothing as he steps closer. He reaches out for my hip and I swat his hand away. I shake my head, "this is my house."
He chuckles as I evade him on my way to the kitchen, which was not nearly as far as it should have been. The prince eyes the space, "yes. An impressive little room you've got." He follows after me, "I'd love to see the rest of it."
I look at him as I reach my fridge and open the door.
Daemon squints at the light that radiates on me. I cuss at the fact I only had cereal (no milk) and some vegetables that have gone bad. I grab the paper box and hand it to him. He blankly stares at it as I discard the vegetables.
Daemon's brows contort at he box, "it's cold."
I wash my hands, "yeah, refrigerators do that."
"Gra'-nola," he reads.
"Granola," I correct as I dry my hands on my shift.
I'm suddenly struck with the realization his grubby has have never seen antibacterial soap. I snatch the box from him and motion to the sink, "wash your hands."
Daemon turns to the sink and purses his lips.
For a second, I debate if he'd melt if he uses something antiseptic, but then figure I should still take my chances.
I prop the cereal on the counter and exemplify him how to wash his hands. Daemon, with slight reluctance, pumps some hand wash on his palm, opens the sink, and rinses.
I excitedly applaud him once he was done.
"A hand towel," he raises his dripping hands.
I look around even though I didn't have a hand towel. I shrug, "I usually just use my pants."
Daemon shakes his hands by the sink, "your pants?"
"Yeah. They're like clothes that you put on your-"
He grabs my shift and pulls me closer. He wipes his hands on it, "I know what pants are, princess."
I push him off and smirks as he dodges. I make a face, "well, I do so beg your pardon, your majesty."
The prince lets out a low laugh, "don't get too brazen, or I'll have you begging till you weep."
I quickly change the subject, "get that damned sword off your hip." I shoo him and rummage through my kitchen cabinets.
Daemon watches this and chuckles again. He tilts his head as he eyes my legs. He undoes his scabbard, sets it on my dining table, and pulls out a chair. He sits down just as I find a can of Sbam. Huzzah!
I grab a chopping board and open the can. A small smile spreads on the prince's lips as stares. But then, his expression drops when I shake, or try to shake, the processed meat out of the can.
I huff once I've succeeded, and I begin to cut the Sbam chunk, "you know this was in created during the war," I slice a piece, "it saved a lot of people from starvation."
"Which war?"
I freeze when he says this. I open my mouth then close it, unsure if recounting the details of world wars to him was a good idea, "you know what, never mind that."
Once I was done with the Sbam, I got a pan and heat it up. I get a plate and a loaf of bread, then place it on the table.
I click my tongue at the sight of his sword, "off the table!"
Daemon watches as I take Dark Sister and replace it with the plate and bread. I place the sword by the shoes and he takes the plastic wrapped bread. He feels the material and opens it, "what is this?"
"Bread," I retort, going back to my pan.
"No, I know that, but what's it wrapped with?"
I give him a quick look, "oh, plastic," I begin to cook the Sbam, "it's made of carbon... I think- I dunno- don't quote me on that."
Daemon opens the bag and takes a slice of bread. He pulls his had back, "it's sliced."
I beam and jump excitedly, "it is! It's sliced bread! Betty White is older than sliced bread! And so are you!"
Daemon ignores this as he sniffs the piece in his hand. He takes a bite then and makes a face, "why does it taste like that?"
"Like what?"
His brows knit and his eyes narrow, "like a pretender."
I burst into a laugh. I flip over the Sbam with a spatula, "imitation bread?"
"It wants so earnest to be bread," he pushes the loaf away and shakes his head, "but it clearly isn't."
I laugh even harder.
He snorts at my reaction. He smiles as leans back on his chair. A few moments later, he grows serious, "you ought to dismiss your royal baker."
Oh. My lips twitch and I chuckle under my breath, "ah, yes. My royal baker. Yes, I will dismiss my royal baker for making horrible sliced bread. Yes."
The Sbam was now cooked. I present it to him on a plate, "bon app-- ... I hope you like it."
Daemon leans forward to scrutinize the dish.
I press my lips into a line as I sit down next to him. I take a slice of imitation bread and fold in a slice of Sbam. I realize just how hungry I was after taking a bite. Through half-full mouth, I mutter, "it's good."
Daemon watches me and follows suit. He takes some bread and Sbam, then chomps.
I stop chewing. Wait, what if he gets an instant heart attack because his living fossil-self can't handle processed food?
He licks his lips and chews. I begin to grow more agitated as he makes a face.
"It's delicious," Daemon says, going in for another bite.
My agitation turns into shock, "really?!"
"Well, it's no roasted pork, but it'll suffice," he mutter between chews.
I let out a soft laugh and nod, "I'm glad it's enough for the prince."
"I'm honored the princess herself made it for me."
Aw, fuck. Who's gonna tell him?
There is a knock on my door. At the same time, my phone rings.
Daemon is alerted by the sound and I dash away to finally answer my phone.
"What is that?" the prince asks.
"It's my phone. Remember? You can call people with it."
Daemon narrows his eyes as I rummage my bag for my device. The knocking on the door gets louder.
I turn to the door, "just a minute."
I find my phone and feel my stomach drop at the caller ID. The banging on the door persists.
I answer the phone and head for the door, "hello?"
"Fucking hells!" the voice is worn and apparently worried, "where the fuck have you bee-"
"It's not you outside, is it?" I cut him off as I head for the door.
"What?! No! I'm in the fucking North, dammit! Your friends have been calling me nonstop, since fucking Sunday! -"
I open the door and my face falls. Standing before me is a man in a dark teal suit; his tie was loose, his stubble was thick, and he held what looked like a dozen bags in his hands.
"- You and Libby have been fucking missing for days! Where-"
"Mr. Hightower," I lower my phone as the man on the other end continues to chastise me.
Otto Hightower looks me up and down, then sighs, "out of the way."
Without another thought, I step back to let him in. He expertly slips out of his leather shoes then heads towards my sofa. He places all the bags on the coffee table. I follow after him.
I hear my name being shouted from my phone. I close the door and follow after Otto.
I listen in on the call again and I hiss when the voice pierces my ear drum, "Jon, calm down."
"CALM DOWN!? HOW CAN I BE CALM WHEN YOU WON'T TELL ME ANYTHING!?"
I begin to panic when Daemon walks over.
"Who is that?" Otto asks me. He notices Daemon, then makes a face, "who are you?"
I look at Otto, then Daemon, and dash over to the prince, grabbing his hand. I watch in real time the recognition and disbelief that floods the Targaryen's features as he watches the other slowly remove his tie.
"Libby and I got stuck in the ren-fair!" I reply to my phone.
"WHY DIDN'T YOU FUCKING CALL?!"
"MY PHONE DIED, JON!" I shout back a lie.
Otto's brow raises. He looks at me and mouths, "Jon?"
I ignore that and groan "LOOK! I'm fine! Libby's-- ... Libby's," I whisper softly, "in the ER-"
"THE ER-"
"I'M TAKING CARE OF HER!"
"WHY THE FUCK IS SHE IN THE ER?!"
"Libby's in the ER?" Otto mutters.
I raise a finger to answer my phone, "Jon, please. I'll explain everything tomorrow."
He screams my name and I have to rip my phone away from my ear again. I vaguely hear him rant about how I should explain why his sister is in the fucking ER.
"Jon, Jon, I love you but I have to go," I quip and immediately end the call. I turn on airplane mode and throw my phone on to the couch.
I release a breath and find myself pulling a smile as the man in the suit eyes me. He's about to speak, but Daemon beats him to it.
"What was that?" the prince asks, pulling me by the arm to face him.
I turn to him and make a face. It's Otto that answers for me, "her ex boyfriend."
I turn to Otto as he tilts his head and raises a brow, as if daring me to correct him.
I do, "my best friend's brother."
Daemon eyes Otto; the latter makes a face, "who used to your lover," he crosses his arms, "I'm offended you take his calls but not mine."
"And who are you?" Daemon hisses, stepping towards him.
Without missing a beat, Otto meets his gaze and scoffs, "who are you?"
Daemon's pulls his chin back and chuckles dryly. His expression screamed FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT.
I jump in front of him, my back presses his chest. I give a nervous laugh, "Mr. High- Director- Mr. Director- sir. This is Daemon."
Otto watches as I grip Daemon's hands behind me.
"And Daemon," I barely look at him over my shoulder, "this is... my... employe-"
"Otto Hightower," he cuts me off, bringing his hand into his breast pocket, "Director and CFO of King's Landing Holdings."
I wince, fuck.
"King's Landing?!" Daemon laughs out loud.
Otto produces a business card.
"It's a company!" I turn around and wave my hands, "it's a company! An establishment!"
Daemon does not tear his eyes away from him.
"He's my employer!" I explain.
Otto offers a piece of paper between his fingers.
The prince looks at it and slightly pushes me away, "what's he doing here then?"
"That's hardly any of your business," Otto retorts, tucking his business card back into his pocket.
Daemon laughs and finally turns to me. He mutters something in High Valyrian along the lines of 'let me do something' and 'stabbing'. I frantically shake my hand and push him back.
He thankfully relents and I sit him back down on my dining table.
My relief is fleeting when I realize the only reason Daemon didn't refute was because Otto was trailing right after me. My stomach drops when I feel a hand on my back.
Otto is right behind me. He places a few of the paper bags he brought on the table. He opens them, "I bought you dinner."
I turn to him, intent to tell him he shouldn't have.
"Amongst other things," he adds.
Daemon barks, "we have dinner."
"How did you even know I was home?" I say at the same time.
Otto's eyes flick to him, to the plate of Sbam on the table. His face is blank as looks back to me. He decides to remove his coat jacket, "I suppose you'd-" eyes Daemon, "-also think a candle equal to a campfire."
"Mister Hightower," I helplessly mutter.
He hangs his jacket on the backrest. He turns to me, "and you were missing--"
My expression sours.
"-- what did you expect me to do? I obviously utilized my connections. I'm offended you'd ask me such a thing."
Daemon mutters something in High Valyrian again.
"Of course, I had come see you myself," he looks at me through his lashes as rolls up his sleeves. My eyes dart to his sleeve tattoos and arm veins. When I begin to scrutinize the hairs on his skin, I realize I've stared to long.
In a panicked frenzy, I begin to unpack one of the paper bags. He, himself, brings out a stack of food containers and places them on the table.
The smell alone makes my stomach grumble.
Otto steps away and comes back with plates and cutlery. He places one plate in front of me, and has a prolonged stare at Daemon before placing the other in front of Daemon. He says, "I would hate for prince Daemon to be reduced to eating Sbam for dinner."
My expression drops. Daemon does not move an inch.
Otto turns to me and pulls out the chair. I take a moment before sitting down, because, really, did I have any other choice?
Otto opens the containers one by one and my mouth waters as I see lobster, lamb, and lemon cakes. He serves me meat and veggies, "I would assume you're not hurt like your friend."
I watch as he places food on my plate. I gulp before responding, "I'm just... tired."
"Then, I would also assume you'll not be attending work tomorrow," he takes my hand, putting the utensils in them. He scrapes a chair to my side and sits down next to me, urging me to eat with a motion.
I look at Mr. Hightower, "oh no- I will! I will-"
"You won't," he raises a hand, "see to it you're well rested."
I turn to my plate, feeling a flurry in my stomach over his words.
"Are you not going to serve your prince?" Daemon cuts in, raising his brows.
The lamb I was about to eat drops back to my plate.
The two glare, as if willing the other to spontaneously combust.
Before anything else could happen, I stand and reach out to Daemon's plate. I squeak when both grab me by the wrist.
My throat tightens.
My heart races when Daemon stands, "release her."
Otto raises his brows and tilts his head, "sit back down."
I rip my wrists out of their grips. Thankfully, neither put up a fight.
They stare at each other for what felt like ages. My agitation rockets when I see my boss begin to fidget with his hands the way he did when he was annoyed and ready to do something drastic.
I give Daemon a panicked look and grab his wrist, "kostilus." Please.
Daemon clenches his fist.
I continue to beg him until he sits.
I squeak when he grabs my chair by the seat and pulls me towards him. He mutters, "kesan daor emagon ao va bona run." I will not have you near that thing.
I turn to Director Hightower; I could see his annoyance building.
Fuck.
"Miste-" "Enjoy your meal then," he speaks as he stands. He grabs his coat and points, "I've bought some first aid things. I'm sure your friend can help you put that away."
I move to stand but Daemon stops me. He looks up at Otto in disgust, "do mind the steel contraptions on your way out."
I snap at Daemon, eyeing him hotly. He places a hand over my legs, ensuring I do not evade him. I watch as Mr. Hightower heads for the door, and in a split second decision, I turn to the prince and kiss him on the lips.
He is evidently taken aback, but it only takes him another second to get into it. Once he's put his guard down, I rip away from him and chase after my boss just as he exits my apartment.
"MR. HIGHTOWER!"
Otto turns around. I huff as I meet him just outside my door, "I'm really sorry about him. He's... he's just like that."
"You're not responsible for the actions of others," he retorts, nonchalant.
"I know. But still-"
"You are responsible for the company you keep," he adds.
I brush my silver hair back, "and you're not responsible for my well-being."
He snorts and shakes his head, "I'm your superior."
I press my lips into a thin line, deciding not to get into this conversation right now, "that, you are, Director."
We stare at each other for a moment. I examine his well-ironed suit, noticing how he didn't bother to fix his tie or buttons any more.
"I'll-"
"Is he not-" Daemon kicks the door open.
My eyes widen, "DAEMON-"
"-fucking gone yet?!" he points Dark Sister in an offensive stance. I yelp when he swings his weapon and scratches the door.
Otto's fight or flight instincts kick in and he takes flight down the hall.
"DAEMON-" I scream. I duck down and grab him by the torso, "STOP IT!"
Daemon screams out in High Valyrian. He laughs and lowers his sword, "yeah, you better run."
#daemon fanfic#daemon targaryen fanfic#daemon angst#daemon fluff#daemon targaryen fluff#daemon x reader#daemon x you#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen angst#daemon targaryen x you#daemon x modern!reader#hotd time travel au#hotd au#daemon crackfic#harwin fanfic#harwin strong fanfic#house of the dragon fanfic#otto hightower fanfic#otto fanfic
416 notes
·
View notes
Text
[Favourite] Shinichiro Sano
in which Shinichiro's siblings love you as much as their brother does
a scenario from the childhood friend! Shinichiro post, but can be read as a standalone
“(n/n)-chan! You're finally here!!”
Before you could fully turn around to see the person who called out for you, you were immediately pounced on by two little gremlins. A blond haired boy and a honey blond hair girl.
It seems that the two kids had been waiting eagerly for your arrival.
You could only smile at the sight, quickly hugging the two kids back, as you kneeled to look the both of them in the eyes.
“Hi Emma, Manjiro! Have you been waiting for me to arrive?”
The blonde hair girl nods her head eagerly, as she linked her arm with yours.
“Yes! I want to show you my new tea set!”
“Hey no fair! (n/n)-chin promised me that she'll let me show her the new taekwondo moves I've learnt!” The blond boy interjected, as he grabbed your other arm and pulled you towards him.
Being sandwiched between the two kids, you didn't know what to do to ease the both of them. You were about to open your mouth to say something to calm them down when someone beat you to it.
“Hey now, both of you. Leave her alone. Give her some space to breathe, will ya’?”
You looked up to see a familiar black haired guy walking towards the three of you. His hair and shirt slightly messed up and his face filled with some minor bruises. The two kids who were begging for you to follow them immediately stopped their antics, looking down in shame at being caught.
“Sorry, Shin-nii.”
Leave it to Shinichiro to control his siblings.
You looked up at your black haired friend, eyeing his unkempt appearance.
“Woah, you look like shit.” The taller male scoffs at your words.
“Rude. You think I don't know that already?”
“Just reminding you, that's all.” You hummed.
Your friend rolls his eyes at your words, before chuckling.
“Leave it to you to remind me of my shortcomings.”
“Maybe if you didn't decide to avoid your grandather's dojo lessons, you might've been able to come out of the fight not looking like shit.”
Shinichiro only sheepishly looked away, knowing that he couldn't refute your words.
“And this is why you should hang out with me instead, (n/n)-chin! I'm way stronger than Shin-nii. Even gramps said so!” The blond haired boy proudly exclaims, earning a groan from his older brother and a giggle from his younger sister.
“Is that so? Maybe you should teach your brother some moves then. He could use some lessons.” You teased, ruffling the younger male's hair as he looked up at you with stary eyes.
“Oi, don't go giving him ideas now. It's bad enough I have gramps on my ass.” Shinichiro grumbled, shaking his head exasperatedly.
“And who's fault is that?”
“.....Fair enough.”
You felt a tug at your left arm, and looked down to see a wide-eyed Emma staring at you with pleading eyes.
“Come on (n/n)-chan! Now that Shin-nii's here, we can all have a tea party with the new tea set grandpa got for me!”
You see from the corner of your eye the brother duo quietly trying to escape, but you knew better and grabbed them both by their collar, stopping them from leaving.
“And where do you two think you're going?”
“Heheh... I just remembered I have work to do...!” Shinichiro mumbles out a poor excuse, as he tries to get out from your grasp, only for you to pull him back.
“Going to do some measley work when your dear sister over here invited you to a tea party?” Your expression right now was scary, even Manjiro knew not to do anything stupid and just follow what you say.
Shinichiro sweats profusely, as he avoided all eye contact with you.
“Right... right... my bad. You're absolutely right...”
“See, it's not so bad, right?”
You were seated at a kiddy table, with plastic cutlery and food on it, while holding a cup of imaginary tea that Emma handed you.
You hear some groans from the older male, and you shoot him a nasty glare.
“What's with the attitude?”
“What attitude? I'm thoroughly enjoying my afternoon cup of tea over here.” Shinichiro replies, as he pretends to sip on the said tea.
You chuckle and roll your eyes at his gesture, before turning to look at the younger boy, who was blatantly pouting.
“What's wrong lil' guy?”
“This is boring. What's the point of having a tea party when there isn't even any real food or tea?!?”
“Hey! I tried my best okay! Can't you see!!?” Emma exclaims, as she crossed her arms out of indignance.
“Who says there isn't any real food though?”
The two kids immediately whipped their head towards your direction, and in an instant, you could see their eyes light up at the sight of the goodies and snacks you had brought with you.
“Woah...! Did you-”
“Yes, Manjiro, I also brought taiyaki with me too.”
“(n/n)-chin, you're my favourite person from now on!” The blonde haired boy exclaims, as he rushes towards you to receive his favourite treat.
“Was I not already your favourite person?” You chuckled, as you took out the packet of taiyaki you had bought specifically for the younger boy. His eyes widened, before he flashed a boyish grin at you.
“Of course you were! You still are now too, just had to remind you again.”
“You're my favourite person too, (y/n)-chan!” Emma gushed, as she too made her way to see the variety of snacks you had brought for them.
“Is there any for me?” You see the older male peeking over your shoulder, with a hopeful look in his eyes. Seems like he too was in the mood for a treat.
“Nope.”
Shinichiro's expression immediately becomes one of distraught, as he puts a hand to his chest.
“Ouch! Your words wound me, (y/n). How could you forget to bring a snack for this dear friend of yours.”
Is this guy serious?
“Cut your bullshit Shin. You're fooling no one with your act.”
Shinchiro visibly flinches at your words, before returning back to his normal self.
“Oh well. It was worth a try. Wanted to see if it would earn me some pity points from you.” Shinichiro shrugs, right before he was met with a bag of chips smacked right across his face. He immediately falls back from the sudden impact, earning giggles from his two younger siblings.
“Woops, my bad. Didn't mean to aim for your face.” You apologised, not sparing a glance at the black haired guy.
You definitely meant to aim for his face.
Shinichiro just laughs it off, as he shifted to sit next to you, opening up the packet of chips you threw at him.
“Aww, I knew I was always your favourite. You even got me my favourite flavour of chips too!” Shinichiro teases, earning a scoff from you.
“Bold of you to assume you're my favourite Sano, Shin.”
Shinichiro dramatically pauses, letting out a huge gasp. He really looked like he was shocked by your words, but you knew that he was just feigning hurt.
“What?? How could this be? If not me, then who else would be your favourite Sano?” You shook your head in disbelief, but decided to go along with this act of his.
“Your cute and adorable siblings of course!” You replied, as you ruffled both Emma and Manjiro's hair.
“I'm cute and adorable too y'know,” Shinichiro huffs, as he crosses his arms and looked away from you.
“Says no one.” Manjiro replies cheekily before you could even open your mouth to say something. You had to hold in a laugh after seeing the look of betrayal on the older male's face as soon as his younger brother uttered those words from his mouth.
“Wha- I'll have you know that people have in fact said those words, Manjiro "Mikey" Sano.”
Shinichiro tries to back himself up, but his attempt was immediately shot down by his younger sister, who mumbles, “If people really said that, you wouldn't have gotten rejected so many times...”
You lost it at that moment, and burst out in laughter, together with Manjiro who was enjoying the whole roast.
“Seriously?? I can't believe you all are ganging up on me like this...!” Shinichiro pauses, as he let out a few dramatic fake sobs, before continuing.
“My very own siblings too... What did you do for them to favour you like this...”
“Not my fault that I'm just better.”
“Yeah! She's way kinder to us that you are, Shin!” Emma says, much to Shinichiro's disbelief.
“What?? But I'm always nice to you both too!”
“Sure you are. Besides, (y/n)-chin always buys us our favourite snacks too!! See??” Manjiro adds on, shoving the taiyaki and sweets you had given to him up Shinchiro's face. Shinichiro shoots you a glare, but you only just shrug your shoulders, insisting that it is what it is.
“Bribery at it's finest... I can't believe this..” Shinichiro lets out a dejected sigh, chuckling as he shakes his head.
“Though, it's not like I can't blame my siblings." He says, as he leans in closer to you, whispering the next few words only for you to hear.
“You're my favourite person too.”
m.list
#shinichiro sano#shinichiro sano x reader#shinichiro sano fluff#shinichiro x reader#shinichiro sano x reader fluff#shinichiro sano x you#shinichiro x you#shinichiro sano x y/n#shinichiro x y/n#shinichiro sano drabble#tokyo rev x reader#tokyo rev x y/n#tokyo rev x you#tokyo rev#tokyo revengers#rizzanon
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
10 BL Characters I Would Hit With My Car
(I don't have a licence and can't drive so this is just for fun OBVIOUSLY)
LISTEN, I love these characters. They are complex, they are human, they are flawed and yet you can't help but root for them. Or they are just giant assholes.
Regadless, I think they would all benefit from getting hit by a car as a little treat.
Feel free to tag yourselves and participate in a bit of lighthearted negativity and media complaining.
1) Ben From Never Let Me Go (2022)
Of course he would be on this list. Mainly because how are you, a closeted gay in a coming of age bl drama, sitting down in front of a piano next to a beautiful boy and not just completely eat his face in a passionate life altering kiss? I understand that was the whole point of the scene, but personally I would rise above the narrative that was trapping me.
2) Dan from Not Me (2021)
Being a cop, killing Sean's father and selling NFTs is bad enough on it's own, I agree. But Dan's biggest sin was taking the cigarette out of Yok's mouth and depriving us of seeing sad First Kanaphan smoking near a body of water-THE queer cinema experience.
As it turns out, you can be gay and homophobic at the same time.
3) Kenji from My Dear Gangster Oppa (2023)
So you have funky hair and kawnty fashion sense? Oh, you partake in fun bathtub threesomes? What, you're a little unhinged and psychotic? Perfect! THEN WHY THE HELL YOU SUCK AT BEING A VILLAIN SO HARD HUH???
Kenji you better put your helmet on, I'm turning on the engine.
4) Kanghan from Dangerous Romance (2023)
Rich people don't deserve rights in general so Kang was already on thin ice to begin with. But being a bully on top of that? UNDER THE HOOD OF THE CAR YOU GO!
Also he is so attention starved on account of his father being a negligent asshole that he will jump in front of my car willingly just to get a drop of love from dad and Sailom.
5) Yu Xi Gu from HIStory3: Make Our Days Count (2019)
(I'm so so incredibly sorry but I HAD to okay you don't underst- *gets shot immediately*)
6) Mork from Fish Upon The Sky (2021)
I looked at Pond for 0.1 second and fell so embarrasingly in love that for the entirety of FUTS I saw no flaws in Mork's character at all. All he did made sense and I was blissfuly having a great time! So I'm pummeling him to the ground for my own sake I CAN'T KEEP BEING THIS STUPID ABOUT HIM HE IS OBJECTIVELY CREEPY!
7) Vee from Love Mechanics (2022)
Was he in my "I want them carnally" list? Yes. Do I find him beautiful and incredible? Double yes. Am I smearing him on asphalt like a squished bug for causing Mark so much unnecessary pain and heartbreak? More likely than you think.
8) Jiwoo from To My Star/ To My Star 2 (2021-22)
MY BEAUTIFUL BOY!! A crumb of healthy communication is all I'm asking for!
Jiwoo was so emotionally bricked up for the majority of both seasons that it caused ME damage. So me hitting him with my car is both a revenge plot and an attempt to let loose some of those pent up feelings of his.
(But also I'm dead meat if Seojoon finds out it was me behind the wheel. He loves that boy too much.)
9) Zee from Twins (2023-24)
I'm volunteering to do this as public service to keep Sprite and First together without any twins switch drama. One gremlin down, one successful volleyball couple UP!!
10) Winner from Pit Babe (2023-24)
I want to do it as an experiment. I feel like he would make a funny sound under the wheels, like when you sqeeze clown's nose or step on a rubber duck. I would also like to see how this will affect his character. Will he become even more annoying? Will it fix him completely? ONLY ONE WAY TO FIND OUT!!
(This was so fun I love inflicting imaginary violence on fictional men. If you read this far into this incoherent insanity, consider yourself tagged!💖)
#tag game#never let me go#never let me go the series#pit babe#pit babe the series#dangerous romance#dangerous romance the series#to my star#to my star 2#history 3: make our days count#twins the series#love mechanics#fish upon the sky#my dear gangster oppa#thai bl#kbl
222 notes
·
View notes
Note
I LOVE YOUR WRITING! i was wondering if you would do the kisses prompt #44 with patrick zweig? <3
*I'm not currently taking any more prompts from this list
44. Tentative kisses given in the dark
This wound up being much longer and far hornier than I originally intended
Warnings: Horny Chaos Gremlin Patrick; there was only one bed; dirty talk; masturbation; grinding; cumming in pants; enemies to enemies who fuck; smooches
Rating: Explicit, 18+ - minors, please get off my lawn
You'd been in a tight spot before, sure, but you never thought it would be this bad. Your mind was racing as you tried to imagine what people said when you turned up together, watched you get out of his car.
You'd been chagrined when he'd reached out to you on Tinder with a proposition, but as much as you hated to admit it, it had seemed like a decent idea. He had made good sense—you needed transportation, and you both money. Meeting up with him had cemented it further.
"Our styles would complement each other," He'd leaned across the bar as he'd insisted it, wholly ignoring what you'd considered your personal space, "We'll split the costs of the motel room and gas, take down the mixed doubles competition and split the prize money."
"And then what."
"And then you won't need to see me again. You'll want to, though."
His shit-eating grin had almost been as bad as finding out that the only available motel only had a single room available. Patrick hadn't even feigned an offer to take the floor, and there was no way in hell you weren't getting a good night's sleep before the first day of matches.
The first night hadn't been so bad—the two of you had managed to keep to your own sides of the somewhat narrow bed, and gotten ready without incident the following morning (though that likely had something to do with the fact that you got up to get ready at 5, and Patrick rolled out of his bed somewhere around 7:30, grumbling, only moving at your insistence that you didn't want to be late for check-in).
The two of you hadn't fallen into sync on the courts right away, but by the end of the day, you'd found a consistent rhythm. Every grunt of his, every encouraging yell of, "Let's go," every high-five, hip-pat, grin shot at you from beneath the sweep of his long lashes made your more and more grudgingly attracted to him.
You'd tried over and over to talk to Patrick about your form and tactics over your rest stop dinner, but he'd ignored you in favor of stuffing his face and cranking up the car radio.
Now, you felt him shifting beside you. It wasn't the first time—he'd been tossing and turning for the last ten minutes. It was another moment before he settled down. You drew in a deep breath, relieved. Finally, you could sleep. All you needed was a little peace, quiet, and stillness—
The sound and sensation of Patrick moving again made you clench your hand into a fist.
"If you don't stop moving, I'm going to stop you to the bed," You warned.
"Don't threaten me with a good time."
"Zweig."
"I can't sleep."
"You've made that abundantly clear."
Another shuffling shift, and you felt the hot push of Patrick's breath against your neck.
"Are you tired?" He asked.
"I'm begging you to shut the fuck up."
His quiet chuckle grated on you as much as it stoked the flare of attraction on your belly.
"We're not gonna talk?"
"I tried to talk to you in the car."
"I don't mean about the game."
"What else would we talk about?"
"Anything."
"Like our favorite ways to fall asleep?"
Patrick's teasing little hum made you realize that it was a stupid thing to say, but it was too late.
"I'm pretty fond of a good fuck."
"Of course you are."
"Or rubbing one out—Not as effective, but still a pretty good option."
"Uh-huh."
"...Okay." He shifted around again, and you felt the covers shoved away. You hesitated before you peered over your shoulder.
"What are you doing?"
"Rubbing one out."
"Right here?"
"Easier this way. I can fall right asleep after."
"You're just going to—Right next to me."
"Sure." Then, "You could, too, you know."
"I don't need to."
"Sure you do."
"Excuse me?"
"You need to loosen up. You're so uptight—it's throwing off your game."
"Bullshit."
"It isn't," He chuckled again, but it was different. There was a breathy edge to it now, and an undeniable soft shushing of his fist working in his boxers. You swallowed thickly, eyeing the opposite wall as you tried to ignore the heat rising in your skin.
"You're a real ass, you know that?" You gritted out.
"Keep going."
"What?"
"Keep talking."
"Just hurry up."
"You don't wanna talk? S'okay, you can listen—Mm, fuck," He groaned. Your stomach flipped at the sound, your thighs squeezing tight as your clit throbbed. "You wanna know what I'm thinking about?"
"Yourself, I assume."
"Those pictures of you on Tinder...I looked at 'em last time, too."
Last time. Why was the idea of Patrick jerking it over his phone as he swiped through your pictures so hot? "Nothing like having you here, though...You smell better than I thought you would."
"You smell like a pig. You act like one, too."
"Mm, but you like that."
"What the fuck makes you think that."
"You think I don't see you squirming over there?"
You bit your lip at the accusation, fingers curling and uncurling in the sheets. Damnit. You had been sleepy, but now you felt wide awake and wired. There was no way you'd be able to just doze off now—not quickly, anyway.
"Spent half the games today staring at your ass," He went on, seemingly uncaring of the battle you were mentally waging. "And when you ran back for that lob, your tits looked so—Mm, god. I thought they were gonna pop out. I wanted them to, right there in front of everybody...Show 'em to me?"
"What?"
"Bet your cute little nipples are so hard. C'mon, just for a second?...I can suck 'em if you want."
You drew in a deep breath, trying to steady your pounding heart. You weren't going to give into the goads, you weren't going to—
You rolled onto your back, shoving your nightshirt up with one hand as you grasped his hair with the other. Patrick moaned, rolling over and curling into you. He took one of your nipples into his mouth, twirling it with his tongue as he began to shamelessly rut against your hip. You whimpered brokenly, arching up into his touch as you rolled your hips, grinding against the seam of your sleep shorts. Patrick lifted his head as he pushed himself to settle fully between your spread thighs.
"Can I touch you?"
It seemed like a silly question coming from the man that had just had his mouth on your breast, but you could feel the way he was holding himself over you—hips carefully still, despite the feeling of his cock twitching between the layers of fabric separating you.
"Yeah," You nodded, propping yourself up on your elbows, your chest brushing against his. "Yeah. Can I—"
"Yes." Patrick shoved his hand beneath the band of your shorts, groaning as he felt your slick, plumping pussy beneath his fingertips. He lowered himself closer, the heat of him almost crushing as he began to lay frantic kisses and sucks across your neck and breasts. You reached down, palming his ass and hauling him closer as his rough fingertips swiped your clit.
His lips skimmed your chin before they brushed against yours. The two of you went still, hands freezing in place as you seemed to reassess. You leaned up just a touch, pushing your lips against his more firmly. Patrick sighed, teasing his tongue between your lips as his fingers picked up their pace. You gave his ass a squeeze as he rutted against your thigh.
Patrick sloppily broke your kiss, panting against your lips as you chased his touch.
"Fuck, c'mon," He murmured, "I wanna feel it—I wanna taste you."
"Shit—" You shuddered as the familiar coiling in your belly snapped, sending your hips bounding against his fingers, pussy clenching as you came. You'd hardly felt the last wave of it before Patrick was pulling his hands up from your shorts, smearing his cum-slicked fingers against your nipple and taking the slicked skin into his mouth. You whimpered, stunned, as Patrick teased and toyed with the skin, his hips juddering against your thigh. You could feel the heated spill of the cum through his boxers, feel the hum of his groans against your skin.
You sagged back against the pillow as he slowed, rolling off of you. It was absurd to suddenly miss the heat of him, or to watch the retreat of his back as he went to the bathroom. You let your head loll back as you tried to center yourself, trying to ignore the slick, lingering pulse between your thighs as you pulled in deep, steady breaths to calm yourself down. You were so sleepy—you could figure out what the hell you just did in the morning.
You expected the dip of the mattress to be chased by the feeling of Patrick tossing and turning again, but he settled down, drawing in a deep breath.
"Night," He murmured, and you laughed, unable to help yourself.
"Night, Zweig."
#of course you were almost late to the match the next morning because he woke you up by eating you out#but ANYWAY#Patrick Zweig x Reader#Patrick Zweig x You#Patrick Zweig/Reader#Patrick Zweig/You#Patrick Zweig fic#Patrick Zweig imagine
108 notes
·
View notes
Text
Spreading Christmas Cheer
This is a story based off of the movie Elf as requested by @alliswell21 It’s from “Jovie” i.e. Katniss’s POV, what she would have seen and fell in love with one Peeta ‘Buddy’ Mellark.
Rated T
Pt 1
I watch Peeta gently kiss the top of our first born’s head. Holly’s dark hair is braided into two plaits; her blue eyes closing softly.
“And Papa Elf said, grandpa was on the naughty list…” his voice was soft.
Suddenly Holly’s eyes widen as she remembers something. Her blue eyes are laser focused on Peeta. “Papá, es verdad que mamá estaba en la lista de los niños malos?”
“Y quien te dijo esto?” I ask from the door. We never discuss my role in Peeta’s adventure, or the fact that I was on the naughty list. Ever.
“Santa,” Holly says.
Ese gordo, Santa has loose lips. I think about teaching him about keeping secrets until it’s time to explain to our child about the past. But before I can say anything, Peeta gives me a look. He always knows when I’m having evil thoughts. I sigh, and redirect my thoughts, because Peeta made me believe in love, joy, and Christmas.
“Your papa saved more than grandpa that Christmas. He saved me too.”
Holly’s eyes lit up like her father’s before the sleepiness creeps back into their depths.
“Now go to sleep so Santa can come down the chimney.”
"Night, mama, night papa," Holly whispers right before she drifts off to sleep.
Together we walked out of our daughters bedroom. Peeta slides an arm around my shoulders. He dips down and nuzzles my cheek. He steers me to the living room. I drag my feet. Peeta is up to something.
"Okay, spill it, Mellark."
He gives me a wide eyed smile.
The hair at the back of my neck stands up straight.
He's got that look, that please tell me a bedtime story stare, and not just any story.
"No."
Peeta pauses and gives me a puppy dog look with a full lip pout.
"No."
"Come on, Sweetums, my li’l sugar plum," Peeta says in an excited whisper.
"No...no don't waggle your eyebrows at me, Peeta. Buddy. Mellark." I pronounce each one of his names.
Peeta’s grins so brightly; his eyes shine brighter than Christmas lights. His hat is slightly crooked as he hops and does that stupid little dance of his that makes me want to tear off his green tights. Yep, I said tights. My husband was raised as an elf, a six foot two, blond, wavy haired, giant with broad shoulders, washboard abs, and is genuinely sweet. Sweeter than eggnog.
He grabs me by the waist. "You know you wanna," he says in that sexy time voice of his that's reserved only for me.
Canasto!
I should clarify for everyone listening to my tale; you should know canasto isn’t a vulgar or bad word. It means basket. But I like the way it sounds in Spanish. So I say it with real vehemence. It’s like peaches in Spanish sounds like a curse word. Melocotón! Tu eres un Melocotón! Which translates into you’re a peach.
I digress.
I let out a big sigh. There's no way I can say no to him and he knows it! Canasto!
"I love it when you tell the story of how we met from your point of view.“
"You’re an evil gremlin," I say with no heat in my voice. It's my personal nickname for him. As in the gremlins when they ate after midnight. However to be fair, if you see Peeta, he’s not scary at all, he’s more like a big teddy bear.
Peeta laughs and my heart flip flops. Because he is anything but; he is so congenial.
Peeta puts his hands on my belly, my very big belly. It's baby number 2; actually it's baby number two and three. They are counted as one until they're born. I know what he's doing, the evil gremlin! He's trying to distract me because I'm due to give birth. I have mild pangs because I’m carrying twins and I’m nearing my due date.
He carries me and sits me on his lap. “Now start from the beginning.”
“From the candy cane forest?” I ask.
“No from your point of view,” his eyes dance gently as he rests me against his chest, rubbing my bulging belly.
“Okay,” I say quietly.
“Don’t forget to start with once upon a time,” Peeta insists, trying to contain his excitement.
“Once upon a time.”
“This is going to be good,” Peeta whispers.
“Are you going to let me tell the story?”
“Oh yea,” Peeta placed a kiss on my nose. “Go ahead.”
Closing my eyes I picture the year things changed. Because everything in my life was about others and never myself. I was always trying to be someone else, what everyone expected of me.
It’s hard being a foster kid, and getting out of the system is kind of like getting out of jail. Suddenly you have all this freedom, but you’ve been conditioned to follow all of these rules, so when you are free, you do one of two things. You get in trouble, and try to get sent into an institution; some of us call it the iron college. Or you try to keep your nose clean and learn in the school of hard knocks. In my case, I kept my head above the water for my sister’s sake.
"I love my family," I muttered underneath my breath.
I muttered it again as my sister destroyed, no scratch that, mutilated Mariah Carey's "All I want for Christmas."
Did I forget to mention that I love my family?
I do. I love my family and there's nothing I wouldn't do for them, but at that moment I wanted to scratch my ears out with dull spoons.
My perfect baby sister is a smoking hot blonde runway model and the muse for Karl Lagerfeld, but she has the worst singing voice known to man. You want to torture someone, hire my sister, and have her sing to the person you want to torture. Within 3 seconds flat, she can have even the most hardened of spies spilling their guts like a canary.
The one thing I could not stand beside my sister’s singing was Christmas.
I loathed Christmas.
I was not ashamed to say it. Every fiber of my body I hated Christmas! If I had ever met the real Santa back then, he had better hoped that I was not holding my bow and arrow, because I would have shot him through the eye. Not that I believed in Santa then, but if I had known there was a real life Santa Claus, I'd have hunted him down, and burned the fat man's jolly red outfit. I would then gleefully take a joy ride in his sleigh into his workshop like Bill Murray did in Groundhog Day when he allowed the groundhog to drive him off the cliff into a fiery death.
At this point you are wondering why I hated Christmas so much.
There were many reasons why the holiday was so contemptible to me. One, my father died on Christmas day. Two, my mother checked out on us that same Christmas day. The next Christmas Eve was when my sister and I were separated into different foster homes. It took me a few months to find my six-year-old baby sister. I had been sent to a foster family who used foster kids for slave labor, to have them wipe and clean their floors while the Mrs. of the family spent the whole day in luxurious spas and getting botox treatments, as if that was going to improve her mug.
My baby sister was luckier. Primrose was placed in a foster home in the middle of suburbia with a 2 story house with a picket fence. A woman named Cecilia and her husband Ronald had never been able to have kids, and they doted on my sister. They brought her up to be the princess she always said she was. Honestly, they were rather shocked when my twelve-year-old cynical self rolled up into their home screaming for my baby sister, Primrose. Prim came running out of nowhere and latched herself onto my leg like an octopus. Best Spring ever, so I do love the Spring.
But before you think we were reunited, we weren’t. The family that had Primrose never wanted me. And even if they did, we technically didn’t have the same last name. Primrose carried my mom’s last name while I carried my dad’s. My sister was Primrose Emmerson and I was Katniss Everdeen. Our parents had a silly agreement. They were also foster kids, so they decided that I would take dad's name and the next one born would take our mothers name.
They didn't have a family, and her parents lived in a common law marriage. Their childish decision caused havoc.There was a mix up and we weren’t processed as sisters. Plus, I never stayed in the same foster home for long so even if they wanted me, they never knew where I was, but no matter where I was, I found a way to talk to Primrose, because as long as Prim was loved and cared for, my situation didn’t matter.
After our brief reunion, I had to go back to the family that I was placed in, and my sister stayed with her family. I didn’t stay with mine for very long; I became a statistic. A rolling number on someone’s computer screen. I was bounced around from one family to another in all sorts of seedy homes.
So you can see why I'm so jaded. Every bad thing that ever happened to me, has happened on that freakin’ holiday. And there was one more reason I disliked that holly jolly holiday so immensely. For some reason, the universe hated me.
No matter where I went, what city, what town within the state, I could guarantee you that it was a racket, a billion dollar racket to make parents crazy and buy things for their kids they didn’t need. For some reason, it pleased people to take my olive skin, dark hair, scowling self and put me into a sparkly Christmas cheer, “gag” pointy eared elf costume.
So with a week until Christmas, I was listening to my sister butcher, another holiday favorite song. Then Prim screeched. And I sighed in relief.
"Katniss," Prim said, coming out of the bathroom. “The water is cold!”
I looked heavenward. “The pipes. I forgot they’re working on the water main outside. They said there would be interruption to service.”
“Oh, you know I can get us a hotel room,” Prim said toweling dry her pale blonde locks.
My studio apartment wasn’t what my sister was used to. She was a freaking couture runway model, six foot one, so slim nothing off the rack fit her. “I’m sorry Prim, I was so excited to see you.”
Prim smiled. “Look, I only have a few hours left. How about I treat you to lunch before I go back up to Connecticut to spend Christmas with Cecillia and Ron.” Prim smiled at me. “You know you’re more than welcome to come. They always ask about you.”
I loved my baby sister. She was amazing. And I was damned glad that the Hendersons were an amazing couple, but I knew the score. They didn’t know what to do with me. “As long as you don’t mind me wearing my elf costume.”
Primrose chuckled. “You make the cutest elf though.” She patted me on the head using a baby tone with me. Prim was taller than me by a foot. I was tiny, or as Prim said, compact size.
“I could still put you over my knee, little duck,” I growled. “Así que mira ver.”
My sister laughed and she delighted in taunting me. Prim no longer spoke Spanish, but she understood the language. “You're adorable when you’re angry, an angry little elf, aren’t you?”
“Primrose,” I said in Spanish. I rounded my ‘r’s’ when I said her name.
“Awe, I don’t don’t get why you hate Christmas so much.” Primrose winked going to the screen divider to get dressed. My sister was used to dressing and undressing in front of dozens of people. I, on the other hand, was not so free with nudity. Primrose said I was a prude. If I hadn't told her to use the screen, she would have changed right in front of me.
“Did you know there are only three jobs an elf can have,” Prim said from over the screen.
I sighed. Unlike me, Primrose loved Christmas. Hell, she even suggested that there might be a real Santa Claus. I told her the only people who look for ways to sneak into people’s houses are criminals.
Prim continued her story about elves. “The type of elves that live in trees and make cookies, the types that make shoes, and the best type.”
“Let me guess, Christmas elves,” I said, rolling my eyes.
Prim grinned. She came around the screen wearing thigh high red boots, jeans and a camel tunic sweater that looked like cashmere. “Come on sis, let me treat you to breakfast so that you can go terrorize the children of Macy’s toy department.”
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
Damian (Gremlin) Wayne and his even more gremlin-esque family pt.4
"Alright boys I'm-" Bruce freezes in the doorway, the pressure that was in his eyes before increasing tenfold-along with his headache-at the chunks of salmon and grains of rice that have been tossed across the room. His eyes surveying how they managed this before realizing Alfred isn't even in the room anymore...so that's why.
Bruce steps forward and narrows his eyes at Jason, the nineteen year olds right hand to be exact, glaring at the fork he picked up and was about to throw at Tim. "Jason Peter Todd, drop the fork! And you, Richard John Grayson, that plate is NOT a throwing disc-" icy blue eyes turn to give the youngest two children THE LOOK™. Tim immediately drops the knife he was about to throw while Damian lowers the salmon that he would absolutely be able to murder someone with down.
"What is all this? I thought this pointless arguing was behind everyone already?"
Bruce looks at each of his children one by one, his brows pinched together as he does so, the four boys looking away shamefully at causing their dad distress. Richard truly does feel sorry, he really does, but that small competitive spirit in him whispers something about taking this chance to gain extra points by being the bigger person.
"You're right, dad. I'm sorry for being childish and fighting with my little brothers this way." Richard holds back his victorious smirk at seeing Bruce smile at him thankfully, the man's shoulders lowering into something more relaxed at the quick apology.
"I forgive you-"
Jason narrows his eyes at the eldest...that little fucker thinks he's smooth with his tricks. Well, Jason-I Can Smell Your Bullshit-Todd is not falling for these childish tricks. Jason knows that him willingly offering to clean will set Bruce's alarms off, but if he gets up to silently initiate it, that will do just fine.
Alfred sips his tea in the kitchen, the man shoving cleaning supplies towards Jason when he comes in, choosing to ignore the confused look his grandchild gives him, of course he knew one of them was eventually going to enter the kitchen for supplies. Jason opens his mouth to question the older man on how he knew but closes it just as quickly and accepts the silent help before backing out of the kitchen.
Bruce looks towards Jason eyeing the cleaning supplies curiously. "Jason...are you preparing that for Alfred?"
Jason feels kind of embarrassed when Bruce actually looks at him, but he can play it off by scoffing and bending down to pick the food up. "No, I'm cleaning it. I was the one who threw most of the food anyway." Ha! Take that Dickhead! Is what Jason is thinking when he makes eye contact with the man, extra points for him at willingly cleaning and admitting his fault with the situation at hand. Bruce's eyes widen and he tries to hold back on praising his second eldest too much...sometimes the boy gives signs that he wants Bruce's attention and then when he gives it to him his child pulls away.
Which is why he keeps it simple with a proud smile at how open Jason is being and a fond look, "Oh? Well thank you so much, Jay. That is very kind of you and mature as well-" Bruce pauses in thought for a moment before saying what he wants to say, though with a bit of hesitancy-"You...have been working on your temperament a lot. I see it has been paying off...and I'm proud of you."
Call Jason Bonnie and Clyde cause he feels like he's been shot. Not in a bad way, but shot with love bullets...which honestly sounds childish and stupid to Jason, but it also means a lot! His heart feels like it's going to burst at the mushy, gooey feeling running through it at those gently and lovingly said words. Jason actually feels like shooting something because he feels so flustered, but this is beyond extra points for him-THIS. IS. EVERYTHING!
The nineteen year old just delights in Richard managing to stumble in place, he soaks up Tim's eye twitch and most definitely basks in the Demon Brat's ® murderous aura. This is a dream come true-what the hell does Timothy think he is doing?
Tim lowers himself to the floor near Jason and puts on cleaning gloves, letting them snap against his wrists while glaring at the older boy. "I-I'm so sorry for being a bother and mess...I'll help Jason clean up! And I'm sorry for trying to throw the knife at him, that wasn't right of me and I-I knew better." Oh...so Tim is playing his 'I'm so insecure, please love me' card...and shit does it tend to work! The little scheming weasel just smirks in victory when Bruce actually walks over and touches his head gently, "Look at me. You aren't ever a bother nor will you ever be one. You are still young and you are all brothers...I don't know what else I expected from leaving you all alone? But you said sorry and it's all good now."
Tim makes puppy eyes at Bruce and looks back at Jason, "I'm also sorry to you too. I shouldn't have been so violent."
Jason freezes at the look in Tim's eyes, the little brat knows exactly what he's doing by apologizing to him willingly on top of admitting his fault. If Jason doesn't answer...he will seem like a jerk and will no doubt disappoint Bruce if he doesn't forgive the other. Which is why Jason just stares at Tim before smirking and saying understandingly, "I forgive you. And I guess the knife throwing is payback for me trying to murder you in my Pit induced rage. We're even now."
The unexpected comment makes Tim smile and giggle, Jason also chuckling at being caught off guard by the younger boy's laugh, the two cough simultaneously at realizing that they are...getting along?
That is gross and Jason will definitely punch at his punching bag later while imagining it's Tim's face.
Damian watches this all unfold with a fiery look in his eyes, he knows his father will probably notice him and talk to him about apologizing or some crap like that...but he can't apologize to those bastard children, he's too proud for that. So, the boy decides to play his "I was literally raised by assassin's so there is most definitely a cultural difference here" card. Damian looks down at the salmon in his hands and smiles, impressed by his own genius while hopping down the chair and walking up to Bruce with a wide-eyed look, salmon held up to Bruce like a cat bringing an offering to its owner.
"Father! I thought this experience was most fun-" Damian tilts his head cutely and makes sure to smile big for his dad, making sure his chubby face is the center of attention-"Do you not usually have such riveting food fights?"
Bruce softens at the cute look but raises his brow at Damian, "No...we usually don't. Did you have food fights?" Bruce can't really imagine Talia or Ra's allowing that, but he also wouldn't be surprised if their food fights consisted of skin melting acid, hidden blades or poison somehow being in the food as a twisted form of training. Damian frowns and lowers his salmon somewhat while frowning sadly, making sure to turn his face down enough that all Bruce can see is his round cheeks puffed out into a pout, "Grandfather and mother would beat me or lock me away if I ever dared to. I want to apologize for making a mess , father, I promise I shall not disappoint you again!"
The boy looks back up at his father with a determined look, making sure his eyes show some sort of nervousness while doing so, delighting in Bruce looking at him lovingly. "Damian, you didn't disappoint me. You didn't even know better really, but now that you do I know you'll never do it again, yeah?" Bruce reaches his hand down to gently brush his thumb against Damian's cheek, finally realizing how dirty his son is, the man chuckles softly and borrows a few paper towels from Jason (who begrudgingly handed some to Bruce) and cleans up Damian's hand and face.
"How about we go get you cleaned up? I know you don't need my help to clean yourself, but I can run your bath for you if you'd like?"
Damian's eyes shine happily at the offer, his small hand slipping into Bruce's as they exit the dining room. "I would like that very much! You can even wash my hair...if you'd like?" Bruce smiles at Damian copying him and squeezes the small hand gently, "I would like that very much."
Jason, Tim and Richard watch flabbergasted at how the little demon managed to win again. Alfred's voice suddenly chimes in humorously from the kitchen, "How many points does he have now?"
The three boys groan loudly while planning the downfall of Damian Wayne.
(Bruce about Tim apologizing for attempting to throw a knife (that was most definitely at Jason): "But you said sorry and it's all good now."
Jason looking at Bruce confused: "He tried to throw a knife at me!!!"
This is a post made for my Birthday today! This was actually written on 2/29/24 at like...11 something in the morning I think and finished at 6:28 PM in the afternoon.
Will the eldest boys actually ever cause Damian's downfall? Will Bruce truly find out about what his gremlin family is doing? Will Alfred continue to egg the kids on? Stay tuned for the next episode of Dragon ball-
I'm just playing. If anyone likes this, I appreciate you loves. Please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)
#dc comics#dc universe#dcu#bruce loves his kids#bruce wayne is a good dad#bruce wayne#alfred pennyworth#dick grayson#richard grayson#jason todd#tim drake#timothy drake#damian wayne#cute#humor#fluff stuff#crack treated seriously#Damian (Gremlin) Wayne#Richard (Gremlin) Grayson#Jason (Gremlin) Todd#Timothy (Gremlin) Drake#Alfred (Sophisticated Gremlin) Pennyworth#good parenting#bruce wayne is a good parent#tired parent bruce wayne
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
since you silly little pooks are down bad little gremlins,
make sure to look him in the eye when he's talking to you.
summary: you made a grave mistake, directly disobeying orders from the big man himself, miguel o'hara, and endangering him and the rest of your team on a mission. thank goodness it was just his suit that suffered the damage, but you and him have a lot to talk about. alone. you know, if you wanted to be a little brat... you should just tell him straight up, but you can't even look at him right now. it's very disrespectful not to look at someone in the eye when they're talking to you, y'know?
word count: 2,541
warnings: slight degredation (nothing too bad, just a lot of reminding you about what you did was stupid), mentions of scars and wounds, slight cursing, and bad spanish translation (please correct me if i'm wrong!)
"tú… vas a ser mi muerte." he said in a low voice, a complete octave lower than the voice he used to scream orders at you to fall back, not to head straight first for the villain; but of course, spiders your type were never one to listen.
an annoying little maggot, that was miguel's assessment of you since the very minute you set foot in this facility. every mission that ever went south was due to you and your hubris, your incompetence, your need to flaunt your bravado in combat. you were lucky he put off kicking you out and cutting off all your connection to everyone at HQ, because you were a hair's length away from overstepping the very boundary of staying in this elite force of spider people to finding yourself disgraced from them.
you always gloated your strength, how many villains you took down in your universe, and were loud and rowdy. trying to break into your place in the spider society, you felt, was one of the easiest things to do. just make friends, punch the bad guys, and then the rest comes easy. but the reality of it was far from what you imagined, it was... seriously not what you imagined.
"i couldn't understand a single thought that entered that head of yours as we were fighting." miguel scolded you in a strained voice as he was being patched up by his machinery. the side of his face was bloodied, it would leave scars, but none that noticeable. his knitted eyebrows and piercing brown turning red eyes were fixated upon you and your hunched over, insecure, shrinking figure as you felt him diminish every ounce of your self-confidence bit by bit.
he sighed in exhaustion as he flinched at the treatment of his machineries, shaking his head slowly as he massaged his temples slowly, wishing that the frustration you gave him from your pathetic stunt would just disappear. but the pain never eased, instead, it merely intensified; he grunted as the machineries patched him up, the nanofibers of his suit dissipated as you watched splotches of his bronze, tanned skin emerge from the once dark blue and red patches of his suit.
you couldn't help but watch as the suit glitched slightly as it went away, disappearing into nothingness as his flesh wounds were being patched up. "tan jodidamente estúpida. so... so fucking stupid." he muttered out as he released a string of grunts from his soft, caramel lips as lyla adjusted the settings of the machinery as they patched him up.
"do you not value your own life?" he asked out with a low voice, as if he didn't care what answer escaped the confines of your lips, whatever words formed out of your mouth, as long as you spoke, he'd find something, anything, to retort to your argument--to prove you did a stupid, stupid thing. and that you were so stupid for not listening to him.
you opened your mouth slightly ajar to speak, to utter even a single word; to release a single sound from your vocal cords... but nothing. your throat as dry as an abandoned well, as dry as a vast, sandy desert, as an unirrigated field that once bore fresh crops.
you had nothing when he peered at you from above like this, glowering over you and penetrating your once keen and eager to fool around facade, whittling you down to nothingness.
"what? not gonna say anything?" he asked, his voice a little louder and more composed now as the healing process began and mended at the worn and torn muscles on his beautifully sculpted figure. he slowly stood up, his legs quaking slightly as he tried to carry himself up. he lost his balance for a few seconds and clung on to his desk to support himself. his breathing was labored, his nostrils were flared; he was pained and furious.
you felt a shiver crawl up your spine as he turned to face you, a good portion of the mesh fabric on the left side of his body was completely dissipated, the cuts inflicted on the suit turned white and glitched out, spasming, distorting the image on his body. miguel noticed you were staring and tried to hide the limping of his leg as he strut over to you, his left leg being pushed off the ground faster than his right.
you felt a wave of shame engulf you, reminding you that this very man almost sacrificed himself to save you while you seemed like a very cute spider to skin for the villain you faced off not long ago, who you provoked and brought your team to their attention, endangering all of you. he fought them off as best as he could, but he was continually on the receiving end of the blows and punches the villain reserved for the rogue little spider that weaved a web too obvious for its prey to fly into.
you didn't listen to miguel when he told you to--
"i told you to stay put," he admonished you in an irrefutably strained voice that he tried his hardest to mask with anger, or irritation. he didn't like to be looked upon as weak, as pitiful, and he sure as hell wasn't going to show that side of him to you of all people. never, in a million years, ever.
he grabbed your cheeks as he noticed your downcasted gaze and angled your face up to gaze into his now red eyes. "weren't you ever taught to look people in the eye when they're talking to you?" he questioned you for your seemingly rude demeanor as he tightened his grip on your cheeks, insinuating that he was quite irked with how, not only did you risk his and everyone else's lives on your team, but you dare disrespect him in his own office while he was already limping--suffering the repercussions of your own hasty decisions.
miguel breathed in deeply, his chest expanding as he took in that deep breath. he shut his eyes to collect himself so as not to let his frustration explode all over you right then and there. he was ready to burst at you, burst at you and let you feel everything he's been holding in from you for the longest time. it drives him mad knowing he's let you provoke him all you want, all the time. he wants to get his control over brats like you back, and if it has to be through this way... so be it.
he squeezed your cheeks, his grip tightening with every breath you took, moving your eyes so as not to look at him, so as not to be so frightened of him. "you're a damn brat, you know that?" he whispered as he moved his face closer to yours, his suit dissipating bit by bit the closer to you he got. he didn't seem like he had any intention of moving back, he was just keen on looking at you right in the eye and forcing you to look back at him, to acknowledge him and respect him for once.
"i-i know," you stutter out, swallowing the lump in your throat. your breath hitched in your throat as you felt the pad of his thumb brush over your cheek and let out a ragged breath, which felt hot on your face. "go on." miguel commanded you as he let go, pulling away from you.
you hesitated for a moment as miguel stepped back, his wide back now facing yours. a small triangular view of his bronze hued skin, and you noticed... he had an assortment of freckles dotting his back, down to the back of his forearm.
he looked absolutely breathtaking, even clad in the mesh fabric suit, even with the mask sheathing his angular face from the world; he was a sight to behold. you hated yourself so much for admiring him when all he can think of was the stupid stunt you pulled trying to show off.
miguel's head turned around yet again to catch you peeking at the flesh showing from the tears on the suit. he scowled. "i told you to keep talking, not to keep gawking." he reprimanded you as he turned his head back around and shook his head, muttering yet another curse word in spanish.
you cleared your throat, trying to collect your thoughts. "i know, i'm... a brat, and i'm sorry i endangered you all." you spoke in two breaths, hoping to get the heart of your thoughts across, trying to hold back from him the fear you had of him at that very moment. honestly, you were always scared of miguel, always afraid that if you pushed him off the edge... it wouldn't be him who'd fall. he'd hold on to your mistake and pull you down in his place.
that was your biggest fear; the fear of him hurting you, forgetting you, abandoning you and starting from scratch with a new recruit, a better recruit. one who didn't talk smack all the time behind his back, one who followed protocols and didn't steal equipment for joyrides to other earths, one who didn't travel to other earths to screw around--one who followed orders and didn't do things their own way, which would jeopardize not only themselves, but the rest of the elite members of the multiverse's sole defenders.
someone who would listen to him and look at him in the eye when he spoke.
"be honest," he began as lyla fixed up the glitchy parts of his suit as he pinched the bridge of his nose with shut eyes and a hung head, his eyebrows furrowing in the middle as he tried to keep himself composed, "do you think you know what you're doing here?" he asked in a deep, contemplative voice as the suit glitched out even more, despite the ai's best efforts to fix it, the glitching worsened.
"oh, genial." miguel uttered as he sighed again. the villain must've been a real wise guy to know how to mess with such hard to break nanotechnology and mesh fabric that not even miguel himself could pierce or cut through. "ok, uh, not to interrupt your sermon, but you need to take it off. completely." lyla said as she ran a diagnostics protocol on the suit to check what was salvageable on it.
miguel stared at the ai incredulously. "no, keep it on, it's fine." he muttered as he turned to face you, his right pectoral muscle showing just the slightest bit. his suit phasing in and out of functionality as he placed his hands on his waist, staring at you as you abruptly looked away. he raised an eyebrow and eyed you up and down. "why so shy now? you were running your big mouth earlier in combat, why stop now?"
you tried to speak again, but all that came out were unintelligible mumble with the words, "seeing you like this" being repeated over and over and over again. miguel sighed and sauntered over to you and grabbed your cheeks again, this time, more roughly.
"i've had it up to here with your shitty attitude towards me." he said as his eyes narrowed at you, his eyebrows nearly forming into one angry, furry unibrow as he tried to maintain eye contact with you. your eyes wandered down past his neck, to his now semi-exposed collarbone, all the way to his rib area; his right rib's flesh being exposed now as the suit dissipated after continually glitching.
"why are you so insistent upon staring at the absolute wreck my suit is now because of your actions?" he huffed as he angled your face up to look at him, leaning closer and closer towards you as you were now inches away from his face. he snarled for a split second, and you watched as his fangs were bared for that small moment.
"you... need to be taught proper manners." he scolded you as his nose brushed over yours, causing you to shudder; the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as miguel fixated his now glowing, scarlet eyes upon your own. "listen to me, very. carefully." he said as his claws slowly dug into the flesh of your cheeks, grazing you slightly as he brushed the pads of his fingers upon your cheeks and chin.
"you better remember to... look at me when i'm talking to you, understand?" he emphasized as he spoke in a low, low voice, the rest of his suit vanishing as the glitching worsened, his left pectoral muscle now revealing itself, down to his abdominal area, where you noticed his sculptured muscles and scars from the fights. the newly emerged wounds from the battle you botched remained on his skin's surface, noticeable still due to having been fresh a few minutes ago.
he scoffed as he noticed your breathing became labored. he let you go when you mewled at his claws digging deeper into the fat of your cheeks. "i'm... sorry." you uttered as you finally looked up at him. he clicked his tongue as he let you go. "you're lucky i'm too weak to do anything to you right now." he said in a calmer manner as you rubbed over where he grazed upon you.
he turned his head to look at you from over his shoulder and his expression softened the tiniest bit when he watched tears well up in your eyes.
"...i'm sorry, too." he murmured as he finally took off the suit and sat back in his chair, in dark navy shorts.
your eyes wandered down to his toned, tanned calves and thighs, how every bit of him seemed so detailed and sculpted; as if he was exerting force and effort upon every muscle in everything he did. "you have a tendency to run your mouth off and not look before you leap when you're feeling hella cocky, but when you're cornered... you shut up immediately and start staring like a hawk." he pointed out, rather sarcastically.
he stretched his leg a little, wincing at the pain. his grunts were guttural as you noticed the slight limp in how the leg was resting. you got up and looked at his poor leg. "what, staring at me at a distance half-naked isn't enough for you?" he asked, deadpanned.
"i could, um... try easing the pain for you." you offered as you meekly pointed to his leg. he threw his head back and sighed deeply, his chest rising and falling as he did. he looked at you lazily and raised an eyebrow. "is that to make up for all the headaches and migraines you give me?" he asked.
you nodded profusely and he planted his face in his palm, chuckling a little to himself. he looked up at you, gradually, and a small smirk curved upon his lips. he shrugged. "alright, work your magic." he said as he leaned back. "if you fuck me over again, i will kick you out, though." he warned, to which you grinned at.
maybe... you'd keep being a little brat to him, if it meant you could see him this way, and... touch him this way.
a/n: ok so if we do hit 400 likes, i'll make a part 2 + whimpering miggy :>
tags !! @miguelswifey04 @fictarian @pixqlsin @thecoolerdor
#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel x reader#atsv#atsv miguel#atsv spiderman#miguel spiderman#CURLING MY TOES KICKING MY FEET TWIRLING MY HAIR BATTING MY EYELASHES GIGGLING TEEHEE
243 notes
·
View notes
Note
Am I the asshole for getting a restraining order against my anti-vax sister and her family?
I know that sounds bad but hear me out.
So I (27 M) and my wife (28 F) recently had our first child together six months ago and my parents and sister have started coming over to see our baby girl.
I didn't let them see the baby when she was born because unfortunately my wife and I were in a bad car accident. (Drunk driver ran us off the road and the car rolled down a small cliffside until it flipped over and crashed) we're both ok but my wife is now wheelchair bound and our daughter had to be delivered and put in an incubator for the rest of pregnancy because my wife was only 26 weeks pregnant at the time.
It was a miracle that our baby even survived.
But because my daughter was born so early she has a lot of health problems, including an incredibly weak immune system.
This is where the Am I The Asshole part comes in.
Obviously because of the horrible circumstances my family, particularly my sister, have been very patient on not being able to see the baby until everything settles down.
Well things have settled enough that we felt comfortable enough letting my parents come over to visit and meet their new granddaughter.
And that would've been fine if my sister (30 F) hadn't come too.
My sister is an anti-vaxxer. A hardcore anti-vaxxer.
Like full on believing in essential oils and healing crystals and literally ANYTHING other than traditional medicine. And considering the fact that she spent the entirety of my wife's pregnancy sending her guides for "vaccine detoxes", what essential oils to use and constantly pressuring her not to get our daughter vaccinated...yeah.
(Luckily my wife is way too smart to actually believe that bullshit and kept leaving my sister on read whenever she would start)
So my sister came over and brought her three children with her. None of her children are vaccinated.
She wanted to let her unvaccinated spawns near my heavily immunocompromised infant daughter.
Two of the three spawns were both sick with colds.
I cannot believe she would be that stupid.
So I yelled at her, telling her to take her children and leave because they sure as hell arent coming NEAR my daughter. She yelled at me saying that she wanted to see her niece and her essential oil covered gremlins would help give my daughter "natural immunity" and other anti vax crap. I argued back that if my daughter catches whatever PREVENTABLE diseases the kids are carrying she could very likely DIE.
And it turned into a whole big fight in the driveway. I ended up punching my brother in law (sister's equally anti-vax husband) in the face when he tried to push past me and let the children into my house. (He also punched me twice after that)
It was an entire mess.
Eventually my parents dragged my sister and her husband away and made them leave with their kids.
Once that whole ordeal ended I gave the entire driveway a deep clean and threw out the clothes I was wearing that day. (Call me paranoid but I do not want ANY risk of my baby girl getting sick and very possibly DYING because of my sister and her family)
My wife and I have my sister and her husband blocked on everything and I'm working on getting a restraining order against those people because there is no way in hell you could convince my sister to just vaccinate her children. So I do not want her, her husband or her children anywhere near my family ever again.
So Am I the asshole? My sister certainly thinks I am (my mother told me. she's been yapping away to her facebook group friends about how unfair and horrible I'm being when she did nothing wrong)
What are these acronyms?
269 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm so stupid, being autistic I am stereotypically eating chicken nuggets and mac n cheese....
And while it cools im thinking about writing; I thought about the reaction of the cast with an autism gremlin reader.
Summary:
Ln'Eta, Estir, Nyanlathotep and Rhok'zan x Autistic reader headcanons.
Warnings:
Rhok'zan has mention of things sexy but nothing bad. wholesome and stupid
Ln'Eta
First of all, if you get the sensory ick from her tentacles she'll be SO SAD, you can't control it and she knows that- but you two need to find a way to work around that.
Opposite if you get sensory happy from touching her she is quite happy! She is rather snuggly, you can be found idly stimming on one of her leg tentacles while you both watch TV.
With your safe foods, she always offers you some of her food when you eat together but the same food every day of the week for every meal seems to be just fine for you. She just doesn't understand why you don't get sick of it.
Ln'Eta offering to block out the sun when you're over-stimulated.... She's great when you're under-stimulated but panics when you're over-stimulated and puts the house into the void more times than you can count on one hand.
Has no grasp on what autism is- a human its a human thing to have "typical" "standard" things versus every individual being completely different. She simply learns your behaviors and triggers to know You specifically.
Estir
Quickly she learns raising her voice is the quickest way to make you NOT do something and freak out instead. She froze when she saw it happen for the first time, why are you shutting down, why aren't you listening- why are you crying?! She in turn never does it again, but claims it's because it is "not effective"
She takes it as a challenge when you dislike the fabric of the clothes she gets you (Fancy fabric is usually so uncomfortable!) She will not stop until you have the most comfortable, yet fancy outfit to match hers. Definitely brags when she can about the expensive, soft, comfortable accommodations she can provide.
Imagine this, Estir has an entire feast table of food, goose, lobster, caviar- and you at the other side of the table with your chicken nuggets and/or other safe food.
She, like her sister is horrible when you're over stimulated, but takes longer to even realize you're not well. Kicks out all her servants- but she can't help with the lights because Carcosa is a star! It's a burning ball of light.
Autism? No idea what that is but has your explanation written down anyway. "My human is very particular in their wants and needs. You are just jealous you cannot provide for such an individual like I can."
Nyanlathotep
Nyanlathotep is very even toned in her voice and actions, consciously she doesn't do anything to give you the sensory Ick. Although her intense presence is always there, so when she uses her powers it likely becomes more unbearable
Listen, listen... she's very fuzzy. You cannot tell me whether she likes it for not you can stim on her fur like people do with pet cats. It can range from fine to annoying depending on what she Is doing when you decide to nuzzle your face into her fur. She's supposed to be scary? Shouldn't have made her form fuzzy.
"Why." You with the 7th day only eating your comfort food " because. " Nyan-Nyan experiments trying to get you to eat something else, fails, "facinating- you'd rather starve than eat something else--"
Completely confused about your situation, overstimulated or under stimulated- "I thought humans could handle more than this..." not that she meant it offensively but she thought she knew what humans were like by watching them. Although... she is tall and strong enough to hold you, I can just imagine it would be like one of those sensory swings- unlikely she would though unless you were really bad off.
Autism? She's older than mankind she has no idea what the word is for it now in your language. She just knows some humans are "sensitive creatures"
Rhok'zan
Not many know this but flirtation and sexy times is overstimulating! She can over do it if she isn't careful but she doesn't mean to and backs off quickly if you're not in the mood. Rhok'zan the queen of Consent.
On the plus side, like Nyanlathotep she is lovely and fuzzy! She will gladly let you snuggle up to her at any point in time you just need to ask.
" Love, please eat something nutritional- please" she has to find somethings you can eat that has some nutrition to it that you're willing to eat as a safe food. It's easy to have a safe food that isn't the healthiest, like nuggets.
When you're over-stimulated she is actually quite good at helping you, closing curtains, turning off lights- and over all staying calm. Asks if you want snuggles or if you'd prefer not to be touched. Will read a book nearby if you want her to stay but not touch.
Doesn't know what autism is, but she has met and loved so many people to realize each one has their own needs.
#sucker for love#x reader#auntie nyan nyan#nyanlathotep#sfl#rhok'zan#estir#sucker for love x reader#ln'eta#lneta#the king in yellow#autism
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pe4rlina
You've already seen C4llie and M4rie, but do you know who else we should ship Agent 4 with? Marina and Pearl, of Off The Hook. Yes, both of them. Yes, at the same time. This is the third of six planned chapters of a fic on AO3 (Chapter one found HERE), and I don't know what *you'll* think of it, but *I* think it's cute.
Pe4rlina
"You have nothing to worry about," Marie says. "Don't give me that look. I know what expression you're making, even over the phone. You really have nothing to worry about."
"But it's Pearl," Rain says. "As in, Houzuki. As in, Off The Hook. As in—"
"A loudmouthed hyperactive gremlin, as Marina would put it, who trusts my recommendation."
Rain's ears lower. "You recommended me? I've only had the shop for a couple months."
"The arrangements you did for Callie's birthday were gorgeous," Marie says. "Better quality than a lot of profreshional florists, and Pearl likes supporting small businesses. Now just drive up to the side entrance, say you're there to interview for the landscaping position, and don't let her intimidate you."
Easy for Marie to say. Rain didn't believe it at first, but Marie's at home in front of crowds and signs autographs in line at the grocery store. She may not be in the same league as Off The Hook, but she's in a neighboring one. "But—"
Marie hangs up on her. Rain wants to call back, to keep panicking, but there's no time. The turn for the Houzuki Mansion is just up ahead.
Like Marie told her, there's a side entrance with a small gate and a guard station. Rain rolls down the window. Her van, bought from a junkyard and fixed with spare parts, rattles to a stop; she has to figure out what's doing that later. "Weatherclear Florists and Landscaping, here to meet with Pearl Houzuki about—"
"You're expected," interrupts the shrimp. He opens the gate. "Follow the path on the right for a hundred feet, until you see the wall of hedges; you'll meet her at the table there."
Rain gulps, but drives on, barely going five miles an hour. The wall of hedges turns out to be the wall of a hedge maze, and there's a place to park right by the entrance. Rain's engine dies with a grinding whirr when she turns it off. She'll be able to get home, but she'd better spend some money on real parts soon.
Like the guard said, there's a table nearby, a nice patio table with an umbrella that pokes over the top of the hedges. Rain carefully does not confirm if it's edged in real gold. But there are some decorative hedges nearby, and after waiting a few minutes, she can't help but go over for a closer look.
Whoever pruned these had no idea what they were doing. Rain wrinkles her nose. That one looks like a seahorse, carved by someone who'd never seen a seahorse before. It's recognizable—barely. But...
Rain leaves her laptop on the table and retreats to her van for the hedge trimmers and gets to work. Whoever did this was lazy, too, and didn't properly support anything; she gets some wires. It takes a little, wrapping supporting wires around the fragile parts, snipping carefully at the overgrown bits, detailing the tail's curl, but she—
"Shell yeah, you just jumped right in!"
Rain jumps a foot and snips off the whole tail. OH COD.
"My bad." Rain almost stabs Pearl with the hedge trimmers when she bumps Rain's elbow. Pearl doesn't even notice. "Squit, I didn't think anyone could save these hedges. Marie said you were the best landscaper she'd seen, but I wasn't expecting miracles!"
"I cut off the tail," Rain says, her ears drooping. She tucks one of her long tentacles behind her ear. "I—I'm sorry, I wasn't told to work on it and it'll take weeks to fix—"
"You kidding? It looks fresh as shell, and you said you can fix it!" Pearl grabs Rain by both arms and moves her aside, and Rain gets a view of the top of Pearl's head, a view she never gets watching them below the stage during splatfests. It's cute. "Come on, let's go to the table and thrash out all the stupid business stuff. Rina's running behind."
Pearl releases her, and Rain takes a deep breath and sits at the table. She does pretty well, keeping her head. There's going to be a party—a massive shindig, Pearl says, for her grandparent's sixtieth clammiversary. "It's not for a couple months yet," Pearl says, "but they love this place. I guess when they were dating they'd come down to the hedge maze all the time and escape their parents by wandering around in it. Guess they got so lost they spent the night a couple times." She throws her head back and laughs, loud and long, and Rain can't help but grin at her. "Might be why my parents declared it off limits!"
Even from here, Rain can see it's overgrown. "So you want me to trim everything back into shape?" Depending on the size of the maze, that could take an easy month or two, and she'd have to come back for touch-ups just before the party. It's good she has so much time.
"Nah, I want as much of the party in there as possible! I'm talking buffet tables set up in any open spaces and lawn games for the kiddos in the dead ends." Pearl kicks her feet up on the table and leans back. "No one's been in there for about twenty years, not even Rina's touched it, so I want you to map it, then tell me if we need any new hedges or moved hedges or shit for that sorta stuff."
Holy squit. This is the sort of job that could have her set for life, balloon her reputation until she can hire employees and have a wait list for clients. And it means she gets to use graph paper. Time to start the price negotiations. "I can absolutely do that for you! The price would be—"
"Done," Pearl says. she hands Rain a blank check and Rain stares at it because maybe Pearl is stupid, to do this. "Write down what you want, plus expenses."
Rain swallows hard. She wants to take it so bad it hurts, but she wrote down her plan and she's gonna stick to it. "I'd prefer to work on a weekly basis, with similar payment, in case at some point either of us decide to end the relationship. Those weekly meetings would also ensure I can keep you up to date on progress or unexpected developments, and you can let me know anything you want fixed or altered."
"Every other Monday, and we'll start at two hundred for expenses," Pearl counters. That's fair, and Rain shakes on it.
~~~~~
The first thing Rain does is buys two new tape measures, a hundred tall gardening stakes, index cards, waterproof sleeves for the index cards, permanent markers, a mallet, a more secure lightweight ladder, and a special notebook just for this project (she loves new notebooks). Then she starts her measurements. It hurts her to ignore the overgrown branches but she can trim it all down once she knows the height she's going for. Then she walks around the edges of the hedge maze, driving in a stake every twenty feet, until she knows the size.
One poster sheet of graph paper should do it, prefolded so she can work easily. She'll have to come back with that tomorrow; it's getting late. Rain shoves her equipment in the back of her van, straps the ladder securely to the side, and turns it on.
The engine rumbles, coughs, and doesn't start.
Rain swears, smacks the horn once (it beeps a satisfying six notes of Nasty Majesty), and pops the hood. Five minutes later, she's got grease marks all over her hands and good gardening clothes—least it'll blend in with the dirt streaks—and she's tying the engine back together with garden twine.
"Oh!" says someone behind her, and Rain jumps and bangs her head on the hood. Swears she hasn't used since discovering octosnipers leave her in a stream, and she backs up to turn around properly and ah, carp, she's swearing in front of Marina. "Sorry," Rain says. "Sorry! Oh, geeze, am I late? I know Pearl's and mine agreement said I had to be out of here by eight o'clock and—"
She's interrupted by a giggle. Marina covers her mouth with one hand, her tentacles writhing. "No, no, you're okay! I heard the horn and wanted to see what was happening. Car trouble?"
"I've got it handled," Rain says, but Marina's crowding up next to her and one of her tentacles brushes Rain's arm and that does it. She blushes, her ears going straight up.
Marina doesn't seem to notice, thank cod. "You've done pretty good work, but that twine's a hazard," she says. "You need some wire at least, if not a completely new engine."
Rain swallows hard as Marina's tentacles wiggle. So, here's what she didn't tell Marie, when Marie was talking her through getting this job: Rain has the biggest celebrity crush on Off The Hook. Both of them. But she's here as a landscaper, as... is the correct term client or contractor or, whatever. Either way she has to be profreshional.
"It'll hold for a couple days," she says. "I'll be able to buy parts once I get my next check from this job."
Marina nods, reaching in with hands and tentacles to shift some of the car's innards. "I haven't gotten to work on a car before," she murmurs. "All of Pearl's are new, and I had my bike, and we were so busy..."
Rain takes a deep breath and moves closer to Marina, shoulders brushing as she leans close and refuses to ink out over who's touching her. "A lot of this is jury-rigged, and I've gotta make some major improvements to pass the next inspection," she says, touching the patches on the oil tank and the mess of wires. "But I did it all myself."
"It's beautiful," Marina whispers. "Would—would you mind if I worked on it? Like, it'd be a learning experience for me, so I'd buy all the parts and you could keep them, but I just wanna get head and shoulders into an engine."
Rain's ears twitch. Marina made the shifty stations. More, Marina's a domes defector, who made the flooders and helped with the Great Octobosses. She can handle a car. Still... "Can we work on it together?" Rain runs her fingers over the engine and reaches for the twine again. "I wanna know what working with new parts feels like." Shoulder to shoulder with Marina, oh cod, she cannot ink out over this.
"Come again tomorrow, if you're finished by five we can eat together and then work on it," Marina says. Rain's ears shoot so high they almost bounce off her head.
"That would be great," Rain says, and cod, she sounds like a fangirl. One more tie, and that should do it. She steps back, and Marina steps back, too. "I'll make sure to bring my supper."
"Nah, I can take care of it, you're doing me a favor." Marina closes the hood, and stands by as Rain gets the engine. It coughs and sputters, but starts. "See you tomorrow!"
"Yeah," Rain says as she drives off. "See you."
~~~~~
Putting garden stakes with laminated index cards at every intersection takes most of the day, and Rain sketches the last of it on graph paper. Mapping's all done, accurate to... she'd like to say completely, but realistically, she messed up somewhere, so she'll say things could be off by three feet. She's gonna need some outside assistance: there are five large clearings, one of them big enough for a couple buffet tables and a few places to sit and eat (gotta remember this is for Pearl's grandparents) and the smaller ones big enough for two or three tables each. Or a pinata or something.
But Rain's no caterer, so Pearl's gonna have to hire people for that. And to fix those absolutely gorgeous but broken fountains, and they need to discuss the sort of benches she wants to replace those old ones with, and...
Squit, it's already after five!
Rain rushes to the front of the maze. She makes the last turn and sees Pearl peering in. "Hey, Rina! Told you she lost track of the time."
Rain's whole face burns. Hopefully it's a sunburn, but she ducks her head anyway, ears twitching back. "Sorry," she says.
"Rina does the same thing," Pearl holds out a fist, and Rain bumps it. She can't resist doing the explodey part after, making Pearl chuckle. "You won't believe how often I've gotta drag her to bed, she gets stuck in recording or working on that bike of hers..."
"Pearlie!" Marina rushes over to cover Pearl's mouth with her hands; Pearl still manages to smirk. "Ignore her. Come sit at the table, I packed us a picnic!"
Rain looks at her dirt-streaked hands and shrugs. but when she sits at the table, Marina passes her a wipe, and Rain flashes her ink to pink so she can clean her hands. Marina unpacks the picnic basket: a good dozen or more sandwiches, a container full of still-steaming fries, a few big bags of chips, pasta salad, regular salad...
Marina notices Rain staring and blushes. "I may have gone a little overboard," she mumbles, her tentacles writhing, two creeping up to cover her face.
Pearl grabs one tentacle, wraps it around her hand, and squeezes it, palm to sucker. "Chill, it's sweet," Pearl says. "We'll eat leftovers at the studio tomorrow, and Rain can take some home."
Rain realizes she's staring, and grabs for the nearest sandwich. "Um, thank you for supper, but you can keep the leftovers. I won't need them." She bites into it and almost spits it out. Who the carp makes tuna salad with ketchup?
Pearl snorts. "Nope, I insist," she says. "Couple sandwiches, some pasta salad—I made that—and a bag of chips, minimum." She releases Marina's tentacle and sits next to Rain, knocking her paper plate (and sandwich) on the ground. "Woops! Guess you can't finish that one."
"I think I'd like some pasta salad, anyway," Rain says.
~~~~~
"Nice work," Pearl says, and Rain almost falls off the ladder. A hand on her ankle steadies her. "Yeesh, careful. I thought you heard me come up."
"I was getting into it," Rain says. She walks down the ladder backwards, pausing at the bottom to wipe her forehead. "Shaping isn't hard, but there's a lot of them to do."
"I'll say." Pearl looks at the neat rows of hedges stretching all on one side and down half the other, where it turns into a snarled mess of haphazard branches. "Wanna show me those fountains? I need pictures and an idea of the problem if I'm gonna get some repair people out here."
Rain smiles down at her. "One fountain, coming right up. I can leave direction signs for all of them, too, so they don't have to get lost dealing with it."
"Nah," Pearl has to trot to keep up, and Rain slows her pace. "I kinda like the thought of some repair dudes stuck out here overnight. Give them the chance to rethink those candid pics they always take of me and Rina."
Rain sucks in a breath. "Want to check my phone? I haven't taken any, but—"
"Nah, dude, you're good," Pearl pats Rain's arm as they enter the big clearing. "I trust you... damn that's a big fountain."
A jumping shark with spouts by its three fins; over it, held up by smaller 'splashes' of stone water, three fish try to escape, their open mouths more spouts. "This is the biggest," Rain says. "I figure the caterers would want to set up here."
"So what's wrong with it?"
Rain shrugs, getting on her knees by the fountain's brim. "To start with, it's filthy. Only water in it now's rainwater, not proper ink or something," she says. "You can't see the drain under all the leaves and muck, and..."
Rain loses her train of thought when Pearl touches one of her ears, and it flicks reflexively. "Neat," Pearl says. "I noticed yours moving a lot, more than mine or Rina's; it's cool to watch."
Rain's whole head grows hot. Cod. "I, uh, it, uh, I mean..." she knows learning to manage your ears is a normal part of growing up, just like being quiet in class, but Rain's never gotten the hang of it.
Pearl chuckles. "You're cute when you're all flustered," she says, touching Rain's other ear, and, okay, this is, it's, uh.
Rain pushes herself backwards, onto her feet and out of Pearl's range. "A-anyway there may be something, with, uh, pumps and solar or power or pistons or, uh, yeah," she babbles. Pearl called her cute PEARL CALLED HER CUTE no no no she's a profreshional business squid. Oh cod, what are her ears doing? She can't cover her burning cheeks and her twitching ears at the same time!
Pearl smiles at her, a smile Rain's never seen on stage, and Rain's hearts pound. "Sensitive," she says. "I'll remember that. Anyway, if you can clear a drain, I'll take pictures and get Rina to try to find the power source. Who knows, maybe she can fix it." She smiles again, and it's the same smile she gave Rain, but softer. "Cod, Rina's amazing."
~~~~~
"Pass me the wrench?"
"Don't you have to line up those—"
"They are lined up!"
"No, they're a little off," Marina says. "Here," she leans over Rain, her chest pressed to Rain's back, and Rain's brain stutters. Marina pushes the wrench into Rain's left hand, then wraps one of her hands around where two pipes connect, moving the whole thing the slightest bit sideways; she wraps the other around Rain's spare hand, holding her—and the new oil tank—in place. "Okay, now you can tighten that bolt."
Rain tries to breathe, but everything is oil and Marina, and she's getting light headed. She fumbles to get the wrench on the bolt, and it's pure muscle memory that gets the job done; all Rain can think about is the way Marina's pressed against her, her legs on either side of Rain's, her tentacles lazily curling around Rain's shoulders.
Then she steps back, and Rain can gasp in one deep breath. "I think that should do it!" Rain straightens and turns to see Marina stretching, her arms interlaced overhead, and she presses up enough that her shirt lifts and shows her stomach which should not be so enticing after watching all those splatfests but it is. "Ready to add the oil and see if it works?"
Rain swallows hard. Marina looks at her, one eyebrow raised and tentacle curled in a question. "Sorry," Rain lies, "I'm just nervous."
"We've been working really hard on this," Rina says. "I love seeing you so focused, you get the sweetest expression on your face. I promise, this is gonna work."
Rain's still stuck on the compliment as she nods. Marina lifts the oil can, pouring it in, then puts a hand on Rain's back, ushering her to the driver's door. Rain swallows hard and turns it on.
The engine starts with a purr, no coughs or stutters at all, and a smile covers Rain's face. She closes her eyes to listen better. It really works.
"You did it!" Marina cries, clapping her hands.
"We did it," Rain corrects her. She turns the car off and gets out. "All it needs now is a fresh coat of paint, and it's just like new."
"I can't wait to see it," Marina says.
Rain can't wait to do it, but with all the work she's got, that won't be for a while. "Would you," she swallows, because no, this is taking it too far. "Never mind."
"No, tell me," Marina says. She grabs Rain's hands in her own and looks down at her.
Rain looks up, into those beautiful eyes. "When it's finished, can I take you for a ride? It's, uh, I don't know where we'd go, and it's kinda stupid just to sit in a car to go around in a circle or something, but—”
Marina stops her with a finger to her lips. "I'd love to," she says.
Rain floats through the rest of the day.
~~~~~
With the party a week away, Rain doesn't dare ask for time off. She gets up bright and early and goes in before she's supposed to, instead. She checks every corner of the maze, stopping frequently for last-minute trims of the hedges, and sets up tiny tables and old-fashioned torch holders for the day of; the bouquets will be set out that morning, and the party's supposed to last into the night. The materials for the flower arch arrived yesterday, and are being kept fresh until the night before; she'll have to stay up late to handle that...
There's so much going on in Rain's head that when she reaches the center, with the large shark fountain, it takes her several seconds to register that there are balloons, and streamers, and a table with a cake, and Marina and Pearl grinning at her behind the table. She drops her sheers. “Oh cod, did I screw up? Is the party today?!”
"Chill," Pearl says, hopping from her seat. She strolls over, casual and confident as their first meeting. "Ya didn't miss anything."
"A little jelly told us it wasyour birthday today," Marina says. "And you were planning to work through it. So happy birthday!"
Rain stands there, mouth opening and closing, lost for words. She hadn't told the NSS; with Eight's recent arrival, it seemed self-centered, to want to celebrate a birthday. And she doesn't know that many people in Inkopolis.
There's a lump in her throat, and Rain swallows it away, puts her hands over her twitching ears. "Thank you," she whispers.
Pearl grabs her hand and drags her to the table, where she's pushed into the third seat and sung over and has to make a wish; this close, she can count all twenty candles. When there are large slices of orange cake in front of each of them, Pearl says, "Rina and I wanna ask ya a couple things."
Rain sets her fork down (the cake is delicious) and turns her full attention on Pearl.
"First, and I want ya to know this offer stands n matter what ya say to the second part, I'd like to hire you as a landscaper for Houzuki house year-round," Pearl says. "We can cut it back after the party; the lawns already have maintenance people, but one week a month, if you'd deal with the hedges and shit..."
Good reliable pay for a job she can handle. Enough that she can build her business and not worry about bills. "Absolutely," Rain promises.
"Right, that's settled. Second question." She drums her fingers on the table, head tilted and smiling at Rain. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"
Rains jaw drops. Her ears start doing something. Did she hear that right?
Pearl bursts out laughing. "Your ears omicod I love that so much."
Rain's dream just turned into a nightmare. "Marina is right there," she says, pointing at the Octoling. "I ain't breakin you two up! What do you take me for? Shell, Pearl, what's wrong with you?"
"Actually," Marina says, "I'd like to take you on a date, too."
Any thoughts remaining in Rain's head melt into a puddle in the bottom of her brain.
"Me and Pearl have talked about it before," Marina says. "Having a romantic relationship between any number of people requires a lot of trust and conversation, but adding a third person doesn't seem like it'd be harder than two. Just gotta watch for jealousy issues." She narrows her eyes at Pearl. "And we can handle those when they come up."
"Hey, I want this too, I ain't gonna get jealous—"
"Pearl, do you know yourself?"
Rain sputters a laugh. That jogs her out of it She's had the biggest crush on them both for forever, but this... "Can I think about it for a couple days?" She cuts a bite of cake with her fork. "I really wasn't expecting... well, anything."
"Course."
"Of course!"
The two members of Off The Hook smile at each other, then turn back to Rain. "Nothing has to change," Marina says. "We can be friends, and celebrate birthdays, and work on your car together."
"But bringing in a little romance could be awesome!"" Pearl flings up her hand, icing flying off her fork and into the statue's ink pool. "Take a risk, and we may all get something awesome out of it."
~~~~~
Once the flower arches are installed at the maze's entrance and exit, and the vases full of flowers placed on tables at every dead end, and the banners hung between the poles, Rain gets to attend the rest of the party as a guest. Pearl introduces her as 'The miracle worker who got the maze back in shape... and my friend!' and that was all it took for the rest of the Houzuki clan to accept her.
But she doesn't know any of them, and there's only so long she can make awkward small talk. Rain accepts the congratulations and hug from Pearl's grandparents, who want to walk around the whole maze reminiscing (she suspects if they do the whole maze they may need those wheelchairs later) and heads for the furthest corner of the maze, the only one without any decorations because someone would have to be really, really lost to end up there. It'll be a nice spot for Rain to catch her breath.
But when she reaches it, she finds Off The Hook making out. Rain... really wants to join in. She really, really does.
Marina catches sight of her and taps Pearl on the shoulder. The two break apart and turn to face her, and Pearl's expression morphs to a softer, smiling one when she sees Rain. "Yeah?"
"If I say yes," Rain says, "to, well, to both of you, do I have to be famous? I don't really like that squit much..."
The two glance at each other. "I ain't gonna lie and say Rina's my one and only if I've got you, too," Pearl says.
"But we can discuss things like, say, not showing up with us in public, or not calling you by name on stage, and such," Rina says.
Pearl sighs. "Yeah, guess I can avoid devoting concerts to you and shit. By name, anyway."
Rain's not sure what her ears are doing, but she knows they're moving, sideways and up and oh shell what the shell why not. She takes a step forward, pulls Pearl in by the collar of her shirt, and kisses her. Pearl kisses back, and Rain closes her eyes and enjoys it, the plankton in her stomach and all. Pearl is... this may still be a dream.
They're both panting when they break apart, and Rain glances at Marina, who has her hands clasped in front of her face, bouncing on her toes and grinning. "Damn," Pearl says, still out of breath. "She kisses better than you."
"Really?" Marina asks.
Rain's ears twitch back. "Of course not!"
"Yeah," Pearl says, stepping away from Rain. She grins at Marina. “You should try it.”
Marina steps forward, reaching for Rain with hands and tentacles, then hesitates. “May I?”
Rain's face burns again, and she nods. Why is Marina so intimidating?
But, as Marina draws her close, hands cradling Rain's cheeks to tilt her head up and tentacles holding her shoulders, it feels like the most natural thing in the world to close her eyes and let Marina lead, to press into the kiss Marina has her in and just enjoy it.
Rain pulls away first this time. Marina grins at her. “Yeah, you're better than Pearl, too.”
Rain laughs. She doesn't know why. She can't help herself. She giggles so long and hard she has to sit, right there, on the ground, and Marina and Pearl sit with her, even though they don't know why it's funny. She doesn't either.
But if any day deserves joyful hysterics, it's this one.
#splatoon#fanfic#ao3 fanfic#agent 4#splatoon fanfiction#agent 4 fic#marina splatoon#pearl houzuki#pearlina#splatoon ship
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Community Service Ending pt3 [read pt1 & pt2 before]
[02TB SPOILERS IN THIS SERIES BTW]
So, uh, the idea here was like, Rui loses his eyepatch because he's exhausted from working at TWO places at the same time (one is his regular part-time job at the café -- which is another of my pet headcanons lol -- and the other is him doing community service at a daycare under Hikari's supervision -- she offered to help him, and Iori & Taichi managed to convince the judge to accept that offer? idk, I didn't think that far lol)
And then a kid accidentally finds it and goes to give it back to Rui. Note that I assume that Rui is really trying to get used to not having to wear the eyepatch, so he just has a little panic attack thinking that people will find out his secret. But he quickly remembers, "Oh, right... that eye is gone now..." and calms down. I think he kinda had some panic attacks during the movie (like when he, Daisuke and Ken + Mons witness the baby Rui finding the egg...?), so I was wondering if...
Btw, the decision to use a CERTAIN OC of mine instead of some random kid designed specifically for this is... well, not exactly planned -- but Taisuke is kind of like Rui in wanting his family's attention (at least in his original source/project, DigiTimeLines, but here he's not Taichi's son and definitely NOT from an alternate future, btw), so I think this would be a good opportunity for my gremlin son to meet my favorite sad potato.
I'll put a transcript of the text on Read More, there's a lot to put on the Alt text.
Rui: Sigh-- Having to work on two jobs is hard...
Rui: I wonder how some people can manage that...
※ (He) just had finished his shift at the cafe shop.
Rui: But we have to compensate for those BAD things we had done...
Ukkomon: Rui...
???: HEY, MISTER!!
Rui/Ukko: ?!!
???: You dropped your eyepatch.
Rui: [turns back and sees a kid holding his eyepatch] huh------ AH?!
Rui: [immediately pushes the hair bangs to cover his right eye during, desperately] DON'T LOOK AT ME-- I'M--
Ukkomon: RUI!!
Ukkomon: Rui, take a deep breathe!!
Rui: [pants] Ah... I... I forgot that that digimon eye is gone...
Rui: [turns to the kid, scratches his head] S-sorry. I just forgot that I don't need that anymore.
[hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha] ← he's nervous right now
Kid: ...
Kid: AH! You are the person from the rumors...!
Rui: ...?
Kid: The one who got the first digimon partner in the world...!
Rui: [scratches his head again, looks away] Maybe I'm not the first... I don't even know anymore...
Kid: Ok... But why don't you need the eyepatch anymore?
Rui: [points to his face] Because I don't need to hide my injured eye anymore.
Kid: [frowns] Why would you hide your injured eye, mister?
Rui: [looks down, frowning] Because... I was ashamed of having one.
Kid: There's nothing to same here. Everyone has one or two imperfection in themselves, right?
Rui: The truth is... I was repressing it, thinking I was a weirdo now.
[Kid Rui, covering his right eye with his hand: Stupid Ukkomon, look what you did...]
[Kid Rui, depressive: ...]
Rui: BUT...
Rui: Some people made me realize that all of us are imperfect.
[Daisuke, standing his hand to Rui: So, go talk with him!]
Rui: And I was able to fix a few mistakes I've committed before.
Rui: [scratches his head again, smiles awkwardly] Though, I'm still getting used to those changes, haha...
Rui: So, you're right about it. We all have flaws and we shouldn't try to repress them.
[Kid looks at the eyepatch, quietly]
Ukkomon: Can I have the eyepatch?
Kid: [hands the eyepatch to Ukkomon] Sure, here it go.
Ukkomon: [takes the eyepatch from the boy's hand] Thank you~
Ukkomon: Do you have a digimon?
Kid: Yea, but... It's still hatching...
Kid: [takes the egg from his pocket, shows it to Rui & Ukkomon] And it's smaller than the other Digieggs...
Kid: [serious gaze] But that's ok. I'm sure they will hatch soon!
Kid: Their size is not going to change who they are!!
Kid: Because... [holds it closer to his chest, smiles] I'll love them by who they are.
Rui: ...
Rui: [smiles]
Rui: [In a light sassy tone, leans towards the kid] I bet that digimon will be lucky to have a partner like you then.
Ukkomon: [smiles] Yep, yep.
Kid: [smiles back at them] Hehe~
13 notes
·
View notes
Note
(mischievously rubs hands together)
What do you look for in a rp partner?
Favourite trope?
Who is an author that inspires you?
What is the muse that you write for the longest?
Do you tell your friends / family that you write?
Do you ever get jealous when rping? How do you handle this?
Do you ship someone’s muses on your dash?
Do you have developed dynamics with the OC of another mun that has influenced your OC or Canon muse?
What’s one random headcanon about your muse that people mightn’t know?
pick your favs!! byeee
Munday meme
What do you look for in a rp partner?
Chemistry, above all. Writing chemistry is an absolute must, and someone who is willing to actually give me something to respond with. OOC interaction is important as well, but I understand that we're all busy, we're adults, and I absolutely don't expect everyone to chat ooc with each other (especially because I'm a massive culprit here as I'm antisocial af). It's a MAJOR added bonus if we have OOC chemistry as well as writing chemistry, but we don't HAVE to have OOC chemistry to have good writing chemistry either. I have written with people before and we hardly spoke OOC and we just chatted OOC in the tags and shit to get a feel, etc, and there's nothing wrong with that, but it absolutely does help to have OOC interaction and feel like there is a common interest amongst Rp partners. But yes, writing chemistry is an absolute must for me.
Favourite trope?
Oh man, so many... I'm a slut for so many tropes, lol. But my favourite is probably slow burn shipping, getting to know each other and pining and falling in love. I also love frenemies, enemies to lovers, grumpy and happy getting tossed together, and chaotic gremlins causing mischief. I'm also a big sucker for ANGST. Honestly, just give me something to work with and I'm happy, lol. I want to explore all the things with the muses and cause my muses to have reactions.
Who is an author that inspires you?
I think every media that I take in inspires me one way or another. A lot of my inspiration is simply from every day things, common things that humans do, whether that is good or bad. I get inspiration from my favourite movies, music is a LOT of my inspiration, you guys are also a lot of my muse and inspiration. I take it from where I can get it, and that's everywhere. :)
What is the muse that you write for the longest?
Rp wise, it would be my Inquisitor, Kaaras Adaar (from Dragon Age). I think I wrote him for a good... 7-8 years? I mean, I still WILL write him and his blog is still up, I've just not been very DA inspired as of late, tho I do imagine with the new game coming out, I'll likely get back to his blog eventually <3
As for non RP writing, Megatron has been my longest muse, from Transformers. I have a whole long fic series about him, his past, his post war life, lol. It's a wild ride X'D
Do you tell your friends / family that you write?
Yes and no? lol. I'm shy and awkward. There are some people that know I write, there are people who knew I USED to write (don't know I still do), and there are people that don't know I write at all. Most of my family and RL friends don't know I actively write, let alone write fanfiction and RP lol.
Do you ever get jealous when rping? How do you handle this?
I have in the past, yes, and I think that we all have days when we feel a little jealous or down. I've suffered through some very bad depression in my past, and that was a very unhappy time for me, with skewed visions that the depression no doubt made me think. Thankfully, I have been doing a lot better in the last few years. I still have my moments where I do feel like maybe I'm not as good as my RP partners or entertaining, lord knows I'm no way near as chatty as some of you guys lol, and that's okay. I've come to terms with it over the years. That's just the person I am, and there's nothing wrong with that. I know it's just the negative vibes talking and being stupid. When this happens, it's best to just step away from the PC and go enjoy something else. Come back when you feel better and it's all good. Remember, RP is a hobby, and you should enjoy it, it shouldn't make you feel bad. Thankfully, I'm pretty good at recognising when this happens if it does, and I'm able to handle it maturely.
Do you ship someone’s muses on your dash?
Most of the ships I wholeheartedly support, lol. In particular, I love Alaara x Gale (but also Alaara simply oogling her entire camp) @chaoticbard . Seeing Alaara on my dash just brings me joy, she's just such an amusing character. Cassian and Ras are also another couple that I love seeing on my dash, big beefy boys @ode-of-odr , @crimesought (also Sornin and Cassian ofc <33 ), Literally Minthara and anyone because @spiderwarden just writes her SOOOO WELL!!! Also ofc I'm entirely bias when it comes to Haarlep x Raphael. (:
Do you have developed dynamics with the OC of another mun that has influenced your OC or Canon muse?
Oh absolutely! Check out Alaara and Haarlep, and how they have both moved forward (especially Haarlep lol). I absolutely adore their dynamic, and then because of that interaction, I have been able to harass Astarion @apalestar (and in turn, Astarion makes Haarlep's ears bleed), and it's just so damn funny and fun. I have chaotic gremlin energy with @silvertiefling and Haarlep, which I love so damn much as well, as Haarlep still tries to fuck her constantly lol (ofc he does tho...). But I think each and every one of you that I write with gives Haarlep a unique dynamic. I think that that's what I love about writing him so much, tho, is that he's willing to be decent enough to interact with good aligned muses, and chaotic and evil enough to play with evil muses. He's REALLY flexible, and I love that.
What’s one random headcanon about your muse that people mightn’t know?
Ummmm, I think I pretty much splurge them all out whenever they come to me, LOL. Haarlep is an open book X'D You know my secret one which I will keep between us and Haarlep's potential blood :'D
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
York Household: Chapter 9, Part 10
In this part Kelly may be stood down from school for the day but that doesn't mean Aaron won't find them something to do.
CW: Mentions of body dysmorphic disorder and dysphoria
The Yorks are Italian so if you see them using words that don't look like English it's Italian, or what google assures me is Italian. Caro/Cara: Dear Buongiorno: Good morning Piccolo: Little one Tesoro: Treasure Nonno: Grandfather Nonna: Grandmother Si: Yes Grazie: Thank you Per Favore: Please Buon Compleanno: Happy Birthday
Kelly had asked Joey to speak to their family about her identity and, once Joey assured her it was fine, she joined the family for dinner.
Calista: Cara, I heard you got in a few fights today
Kelly was so used to being called caro, while cara was used for her sisters, that it took her a moment to realise her ma was addressing her.
Kelly: Si ma
Calista: Can we say the second fight may have had something to do with you being a girl?
Kelly: *sighs* Si ma. The dung brain said only girls needed to know about periods and stuff so I got mad and stomped on her foot
Deanna: I think that’s a sensible response even if you were a boy
Aaron: Deanna! Violence is never the answer
Joey: You say that like you don’t want us to get arrested
Aaron gave Joey a look that could melt steel.
Joey: Sorry pa, bad joke
Calista: I'll call your school and talk to them about separating kids by gender, in this day and age it's stupid. How about the first fight cara
Kelly: What do you mean
Calista: You were having trouble in English. Do you want us to get some help
Kelly: *sighs* That jerk was saying I had dyslexia but he doesn’t know what goes on in my head
Aaron: Still, it’s better to look into help now so you won’t be hindered at university
Deanna: Pa, she’s only just started high school
Aaron: Never too early to start thinking of the future
Aaron: But if you don’t want to talk about it tonight we can fit it in tomorrow
Kelly: What do you mean fit it in
Aaron: You don’t think I’m going to waste a day you’re not in school do you?
Kelly: I was kind of hoping to crash on the couch and play some games
Aaron steps up and pulls Kelly into a hug despite her protests.
Aaron: Cara, your ma and I love you. Very much. But a shift like the one you’ve started won’t be a simple one. We want you to get all the help available. I'm taking a vacation day and first stop tomorrow is a doctor who specialises in adolescents
Kelly smiles and tries her best not to tear up in front of her siblings, she has a reputation as an evil sim to maintain.
Calista: Are you okay Kelly
Kelly: Si ma. I just… wasn’t sure how you’d all take… me
Calista: Oh cara, like your pa said, we love you. We’re your family. We’re always going to be on your side
Kelly: Even if I kill someone
Calista: *laughs* Please try not to kill anyone *whispers* although I have a feeling that your pa would absolutely be your lawyer
Aaron: *laughs* Well don’t just go encouraging her to be a killer
After a hug with Calista Kelly lets out a celebratory cheer.
Deanna does not wake up feeling well. She gets dressed but can’t be bothered putting her contacts in today, glasses it is. She grabs some leftover cake and goes past Kelly and Aaron, barely taking them in.
Aaron: What’s wrong cara
Deanna: I have a horrible headache and feel like poop
Kelly: You mean you feel as bad on the inside as you look on the outside
Deanna: Probably
Kelly: No retaliation? *sighs* Just admit you don’t want me to have fun today
Deanna: You should be at school gremlin but you got in fights. Excuse me if I’m unimpressed
Kelly and Aaron head off while Deanna contemplates a nap rather than homework. What use are good grades if you’re dead?
Kelly: Why am I seeing him
Aaron: Harvey said his son had a good time
Kelly: Pa no one has a good time at medical appointments
Aaron: *sighs* maybe not but he said it helped him, how’s that?
Kelly: Guess it’ll do. So long as he doesn’t try to un evil me
Aaron: Tell him about the trouble you’ve had in class
Kelly: Si pa
Aaron: And tell him your family support you being trans because he’ll want to know
Kelly: Si pa. Think you can stop telling me what to do now?
Dr H: Kelly York?
Kelly: Yeah that’s me, this is my pa Aaron
Dr H: Nice to meet you. I’m Doctor Xander Hanks, the psychiatrist here. Will you be joining us Aaron?
Aaron: Kelly wanted to do this by herself if that’s okay
Dr H: Perfectly fine but I’d like to bring you in at the end to discuss next steps if that’s okay with Kelly
Kelly shrugs and walks herself into the office, choosing the couch that most faces the door. Dr Hanks sits down opposite her.
Dr H: Let me tell you a bit about myself. Following medical school I-
Kelly: Don’t care about you
Dr H: We can skip the pleasantries if you prefer
Kelly: You talk weird
Dr H: Why don’t you tell me why you’re here today
Kelly: *shrugs and kicks foot* They kicked me out of school for a day
Dr H: They? Why did “they” do that?
Kelly: The principal got batpoop mad because I punched one kid and stomped on the foot of another, but they had it coming
Dr H: Do you often have trouble with your temper Kelly
Kelly: I’m a teen. You're a professional, don't you know we have trouble with everything
Dr H: Anything you’d care to share
Kelly: Well ma and pa wanted me to come because…
Here she pauses. As hard as it was to tell Joey who loves her, telling a stranger is a harder task.
Dr H: Why don’t you tell me about why you got in the fights
Kelly sighs and tells him about Roger, the kid who teased her about her struggles in English class.
Dr H: Why did that upset you so much
Kelly: I don’t know. I can usually take a joke, I’m the first to make a joke after my friend Fergus. I guess… I was a bit worried he might be right. I survived middle school but now the words are longer and smaller and they can jam together sometimes in my head. But I’m not crazy!
Dr H: I wouldn’t call someone crazy Kelly. It is possible you have an undiagnosed learning disorder. I can send you to my colleague after this visit for an assessment if you’d like
Kelly shrugs noncommittally and Dr Hanks continues.
Dr H: What about the stomped foot incident
Kelly: I was trying to talk to my best friend Anya about what she learned in health because they separate the class boy girl style. I was curious, I mean I’ve only heard a bit, and this other girl took offense at me learning because I was a boy so she complained loudly then I stomped on her foot. That just made her scream more
Dr H: Was she unaware you’re trans
Kelly: *defensively* How’d you know that
Dr H: Forgive me if I’ve overstepped. Your father used the pronoun her when he ushered you in-
Kelly: I know this outfit doesn’t exactly scream natural girl but…
Dr H: And you said you were a boy when the disagreement happened
Kelly: Oh…. Right, I did… Sorry. I’ve only just come out to my family it’s still... difficult
Dr H: You have nothing to apologise for. I find the term “natural girl” to be unhelpful when talking about gender. If someone is the gender they were assigned at birth, they are cisgender. If they are not the gender they were assigned at birth, they are transgender. Have you heard that language before
Kelly: Here and there. I mean my friend’s older sibling is… oh shoot he did tell me the term…. Non something…
Dr H: Nonbinary?
Kelly: That’s it! So technically he, I mean they, are trans?
Dr H: *nods* You’ve got it. There are many ways to be female, just as there are many ways to be male, or both, or none. Was this why your parents wanted you to see me?
Kelly: Sort of. I mean I know I’m a girl but *sighs* I don’t know what to do about it. Transitioning just seems so big
Dr H: Maybe talking it out can make it a bit smaller huh
The two discuss the situation a bit more and when Kelly feels ready Dr Hanks retrieves Aaron from reception.
Dr H: Your daughter certainly knows her own mind. You must be proud
Aaron: I am. She can be a handful but I am
Kelly: Being stubborn has benefits okay pa
Aaron: I know
Dr H: After this I’m going to send you to my colleague who will do a learning assessment on Kelly. She may benefit from additional academic support. We have discussed possible next steps for her identity as well
Aaron: What are they
Kelly: Basically the government is stupid and science hates me
Aaron: I’m sure that’s not true
Dr H: There are scientific debates about at what age we can start on hormones and other physical interventions. At the moment the youngest age for medical transition is 16
Kelly: But he says I don’t have to do that if I don’t want to, any changes I make will be up to me. I say who I am, I'm in charge
Aaron is glad to see Kelly smile at this.
Dr H: There are many non-medical changes that can be made while she thinks about it. Kelly has already switched pronouns, she may want to change her name or her wardrobe. I’m going to refer her for therapy-
Kelly: He says I might get this thing called body dysmorphic disorder. Or anxiety, or depression or whatever
Dr H: Body dysmorphia can overlap with gender dysphoria so I like to make sure my trans patients have adequate support. I’ve prescribed some antidepressants which I think will be helpful as support during the transition period but I’d like to order some blood tests to make sure we don’t need to do any medical interventions yet
Aaron: What can me and her ma do
Dr H: Keep supporting her. She has expressed some anxiety about her personality traits. I would urge you and the rest of her family to remember her gender identity is not responsible for her personality or vice versa despite being a big part of who she is
Aaron: We can do that
The two get up to leave and Aaron is surprised when Kelly not only thanks the doctor but gives him a hug as well. Maybe her evil trait will be easier to balance with age.
Results of today’s medical appointments. Kelly has dyslexia and body dysmorphic disorder. Sorry it was a bit long, I didn't want to cut her off mid session.
Previous ... Next
#sims 4#the sims#the sims 4#simblr#ChangingPlumbobStorytime#R0901#KellyYork#JoeyYork#DeannaYork#CalistaYork#AaronYork
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Author portrait. Get to know the author behind the blog! repost, do not reblog.
Basics.
Name/nickname: Z/Uzi/Uzir all from Uziris Age: 29 Pronouns: She/her Years of writing: 13 on tumblr, 16+ if we count MSN
Reflection.
Why did you pick up writing? - I picked up writing around the same time I picked up drawing. It was just something I kinda always did on instinct, I gotta thank a lot my cousins for putting up with me being my first beta readers. But honestly it was mostly do I could make my own fun with my characters. Do you have any writing routines? - I fear I am a very in the moment writer. I've tried all my life to change it but if I'm not feeling it it's not coming. (Yes, I did suffer a lot writing my thesis how could you tell?) However, when I'm in the mood I only have two options, either I write a thesis and two books in one setting or I write one paragraph that satisfies the urge and call it a day. There's no in between. What's your favorite part about writing? - Character exploration. Love to put to words the gremlin's thoughts and explore the living hell out of everything they do, think, own, feel. Every little detail offers so much, a gesture, a pause, a glance, it's so telling I love it. And well, breaking them in too, I don't mean this in a literal sense, but more so, in putting them in challenges (good or bad) that put to test their foundations and see what comes of it. Let's get that inner development!!
Three things you like about your writing.
One. Oh man this isn't really something I think about? I just kind of go with what comes to mind at the moment. I guess I like the simplicity? I try to go for something that's easy to read through and get the gist mostly cause I know a lot of times my writing can come off weird by trying to put to words what makes sense grammatically in one language for another. Two. I'll be very honest I am coming at a blank here. Maybe the length? I know it's stupid to like lengthy replies but i'm a yapper by nature and I guess that also translates into writing which I don't mind at all. A lot of times I have to slap my wrist over length and erase a few paragraphs cause there's no need to offer that much info for something small, I wish I knew how to be short and concise but alas. Three. How direct it is? I could go and try to double read or rewrite stuff but honestly the less i think about it the better it comes off. So all my replies are first tries. I do sometimes put some previous structure to it so i remember what i wanted to go for but in the end, whatever comes out is what i was telling myself at the moment without thinking too much.
A question for the next person.
Write a question for the next person to answer. Once you've answered it, leave a new question for someone else to answer.
When life throws you lemons, and gets you down, does writing become something that you're drawn to as to get you through it, or do you feel like it does the opposite?
This heavily depends, I have used writing and rping to work through bad times before, it helped me as much as it damaged me but then again it's not like i had much choice back then. Nowadays I rather keep it at arms length. As much as I feel that it could help, this is supposed to be a hobby I enjoy, if i come with a spoiled mood to it, it'll ruin the fun. I will look at what I wrote and be reminded of what I was going through rather than whether I enjoyed it or not. Specially if I'm going through a very rough time, as it has happened before.
Tell me about your favourite roleplay experiences ! what was a thread that you really enjoyed ?
I don't know if anyone here knows what IScribble is but it was one of my first rp spaces where i rped both in writing and drawing. It was genuinely fun, met one of my irl best friends there and we kept rping through MSN with OCs. Despite the obvious cringe plots/ideas and very, very bad english, it was one of the most fun i have ever had rping where we started with two ocs and ended up crafting a whole entire community and lore surrounding them. And of course, ended up with a life-long friend.
Thread wise though, it has to be back on 2017/18 when i was rping in a Firefly themed closed rp group. Since it was closed, all our characters had to personally know each other and their stories merged together on the ship, during one of the events there were huge breakthroughs in a significant character relationship that still lives rent free in my head cause it was completely spontaneous. We had nothing planed except that they were acquainted from a mission before boarding the ship, all else that transpired was just pure back and forward jumping on the characters reactions to each other and it was -chefs kiss- We ended up having a lot of fun before the rp shut down and we all moved on with life (mel from hell if you're out there love ya! sol to my sid & jane to my petra)
New question: When you're in a writing funk what inspires you to write?
Tagged by: @artisaen & @iniziare (smooching you both) Tagging: @liecoris, @shrineofprophecy, @wolfkcst, @pairidaezah & you!!!
#ooc;#spades and diamonds ;#riddle with a gun my spirit animal#sadly no writing tonight i was caught in a storm i feel like a wet cat so imma shower and just laze in bed
10 notes
·
View notes